Muir's Law
by HooahSergeant
Summary: Memories from the past cloud Quinn's mind, making it difficult for her to separate the past from the present. Feeling that her family is danger sends her into a dangerous tailspin. But is she right?
1. Chapter 1

DISCLAIMER (Because I forgot): Own not. Profit not. Sue not.

Muir's Law - Everything is connected to everything else.

* * *

Everything should have been perfect, idyllic even. Quinn hadn't had any major, action-filled cases since Caleb had been born, Rachel's career was taking off, and the twins were becoming beautiful, bubbly mini-Rachels. Life was good - so good, in fact, that it was almost boring. They had routines and schedules and all the easy things that came with the bliss of domesticity, as much as there could be for them. Their life was still busy; the demands of Rachel's and Quinn's careers would always leave them running and fumbling. Having the twins just added to it.

Not that Quinn would have it any other way.

Except now. Now she wasn't feeling very peaceful at all.

Recently Quinn hadn't been able to shake the feeling that someone was watching her. At work, at home - everywhere she went she felt eyes on her. Normally she would shake it off, telling herself she was getting paranoid. There were the occasional photographers that would follow them to take pictures of Rachel, but this was different. Quinn felt annoyed, not fearful, when she saw paparazzi; even Rachel agreed that something felt off, and that was saying something. But with the past constantly haunting her and the memories of all the times she and Rachel had been in danger, it made it very hard for her to dismiss her instincts. History had proven to her that her instincts were not to be taken lightly, and so she now found herself on pins and needles, just waiting for all Hell to break loose and shatter her dream world.

It was different now, too, more so than ever before because before it had just been Rachel to worry about. Now she had three precious little lives depending on her to protect them, too.

She was going crazy.

As in tune with Quinn as Rachel was, she'd picked up on Quinn's jumpiness and done some Google research: hyper-vigilance was what she'd settled on to call Quinn's illness. Her wife couldn't turn herself 'off' and now sleep was becoming a serious issue. She would either have a hard time falling asleep or be incapable of staying asleep, and if Rachel's cat ran around the house and knocked something over or a car drove by she'd be up in seconds, gun in hand. Quinn had spent many a night down on the couch over the past few days, the TV on but volume low, sightlessly staring at the images on the screen. They'd tried sleeping pills but Quinn hated waking up feeling drugged, and Rachel's worry had skyrocketed high enough that she'd timidly brought up the much loathed word.

Therapy.

If there was one thing Quinn never wanted to do again it was therapy. She'd been in some as a teen and it hadn't been terrible, but the last time she'd seen a therapist it was a requirement and she'd hated every second of it. Waiting for the FBI shrink to tell her boss she was okay to return to duty... Quinn wanted to be in control of her own life, and having to wait for someone else to clear her had pissed her off to no end. As someone who'd studied psychology, being forced into therapy had grated against her. She was more than capable of knowing when she was 'stable' enough to return to fieldwork and fieldwork was where Agents like her belonged.

But Quinn wasn't thinking about therapy or really much of anything when she went to sleep - other than the joyous smile on Rachel's face when the twins presented them with macaroni art that evening. Bone weary as she was, she thought she'd gotten lucky when her head hit the pillow and Rachel curled into her; maybe she'd actually get the sleep she needed so badly.

She should have known better.

"Quinn!"

With a strangled gasp Quinn surged up from the blankets, cursing and flailing as she physically hurled herself free of her nightmare. Rachel fell away and Quinn bolted completely off the mattress, holding her nose and aiming for the bathroom. She blindly slapped the lights on and collapsed, shivering, down onto the toilet lid. Reaching out she ripped off a wad of toilet paper and crammed it up against her nose with a growl. Swallowing, she tasted the oily copper of blood at the back of her throat and felt the sick warmth of it leaking out onto the tissue.

"Quinn?" Of course Rachel had followed her. She stood in the doorway in Quinn's faded Georgetown t-shirt and a pair of underwear decorated with small blue elephants, leaving Quinn wanting to snort at how adorable her wife still was - always would be - all sleep rumpled and blinking at her in the harsh light. Rachel's hands toyed with the hem of the stolen shirt, twisting and picking at it as she licked at her lips and waited for a response. Quinn craved normalcy, craved the cuddles and songs Rachel used to soothe their children's terrors, but this was her wife at her most uncertain; she'd put the worry in Rachel's eyes and the hesitance in her stance, and it made her want to hang her head in shame. How could she not when her own wife looked at her as if she were a wounded animal, more likely to bite a gentle hand than accept it. Tired and heavy hearted, she closed her eyes and leaned her head back against the wall.

A soft hand on her thigh made her jump, eyes flying back open to find Rachel crouched next to her, dark hair mussed and plastered against her head in odd ways and her brown eyes hazy with sleep. Quinn sighed, and stretched her free hand out to sift through the dark strands, only to stall when she saw angry splashes of red on the tan skin of Rachel's neck and collarbone. She redirected her hand, already feeling guilt well in her chest as she gently tugged down the collar of her beloved shirt to reveal more reddened skin further down Rachel's chest. "I hit you?" she asked, glad for the lump of toilet paper against her face - it hid the quiver of her lip.

Rachel looked down at herself and shrugged one shoulder. "You were having a nightmare. I'm okay, just worried about you." She smiled and leaned up to gently kiss Quinn's forehead.

"I'm so sorry," Quinn whimpered around what felt like a mouthful of cotton-balls. She'd sworn to herself after that night at prom that it would never happen again. Swore that she would never hit someone - especially not Rachel - ever again. She wasn't her father, and yet the evidence was right in front of her, marked on the skin of the woman she'd promised to love and protect for the rest of her life. Self-loathing hit her in the gut so hard she thought she might throw up, and yet Rachel seemed so unaffected by it. She wasn't angry and she should have been; Quinn deserved anger, not the loving concern Rachel was looking at her with.

"Must have been some nightmare," Rachel said softly, and Quinn knew she was digging just from her nonchalant tone. She wanted to know and Quinn wished she could explain that it wasn't a just a nightmare - they were almost never _just_ nightmares, but memories instead. Memories of violence doggedly remained in Quinn's mind, stalking her in the dark and waiting for the moment to strike.

It wasn't even the first time Quinn had been yanked from her sleep by the awful images burned into her memory. This time was simply worse than the others, striking when she was already tired and stressed. Rachel was always so understanding, so sweet and caring about it, but Quinn could tell that her patience was running out. Her wife wanted to know - to understand - but she just didn't know how she could let Rachel in. Quinn still couldn't tell her what she really saw, what it was that had the power to leave her nearly crippled with phantom pains and breathless with fear.

Quinn shuddered at her thoughts and pulled the blood soaked tissue away from her face. She threw it away, nose wrinkling at the sight of it, and checked to see if she was still bleeding. Sure enough she was, groaning when her finger came away with a smear of red.

"Hold on, baby." Rachel patted her knee and hustled out of the bathroom; Quinn watched her go and then tilted her head back, trying not to gag at the sensation of hot blood running down her throat. _I am definitely not cut out to be a vampire_, she thought with a wry smile. She heard Rachel return, her bare feet slapping against the tile, and then the sound of the running faucet. Still, it startled her when a cool and much appreciated washcloth came into contact with her nose. "Got it?" She nodded, and felt Rachel's hand slip out from under hers.

"You were screaming, Quinn." Rachel's words broke the silence, and Quinn squeezed her eyes shut against them; she'd expected as much. Nodding again she felt small hands slide against her skin, warm on her shoulder and thigh. "What were you dreaming about?"

"I don't want to talk about it," she muttered thickly, opening her eyes. It wasn't that she didn't want to tell Rachel – God, she did, she wanted to tell her everything - she just didn't know how she could. Meeting her wife's eyes, Quinn waited until understanding showed in Rachel's expression before she looked away again.

"How's the nose?"

"I think it's stopped." Tentatively, she pulled the rag away and wiped at her nose with the back of her hand. No red. Smiling lopsidedly Quinn rubbed at the flaky residue as Rachel took the bloodied cloth from her and started to rinse it in the sink. "I used to get these constantly when I was a kid." Seeing her wife occupied, she tried to sneaking back into the dark bedroom, her plan foiled when a soft, but strong, hand closed around her wrist and tugged her back.

"Hey, wait a second, come here." Her wife - her sweet, fierce, tiny wife - turned her and pulled her into a tight hug. Her palm cupped the back of Quinn's neck, thumb tenderly rubbing lazy circles.

"I'm sorry you had a nightmare, baby."

Quinn blinked back tears as she looked down into earnest coffee colored eyes. Stooping, she kissed Rachel's cheek in thanks and grabbed her hand, pulling her along back towards their bed. She yanked down the tangled blankets and crumpled onto the mattress with Rachel following her. After the blankets were lifted back over them Quinn rolled her head slightly over her shoulder and Rachel responded to the silent request, pressing up against her and wrapping her arms snugly around Quinn's middle. Quinn fumbled for Rachel's hand and found it, dragging it up to rest against her sternum, holding on loosely. She felt the press of lips against the back of her neck and then the shell of her ear before hearing a whispered goodnight.

Rachel settled down behind her and Quinn lay there quietly, reveling in the safety and comfort she felt in their tangled embrace. She wondered if a day would ever come where she would tell Rachel about the things that stalked her dreams. Turning her face deeper into her pillow, Quinn closed her eyes and prayed for sleep.

* * *

The next morning Quinn was bleary eyed and crankier than normal. Caleb seemed to pick up on her mood and had thrown a fit at breakfast, splashing her with milk and Cheerios. There hadn't been anything to do but go change her clothes and hope that traffic would work out so she could get coffee and breakfast in the city.

By the time she got to her desk, all she really wanted to do was put her head down on the polished surface and sleep for a week. But duty called, and instead of drooling on her files she was standing in observation, sizing up the sleazy drug dealer they'd pulled in for questioning.

"Quinn?"

She pulled her eyes off the man on the other side of the two-way mirror to see Ryan standing in the doorway holding a folder out towards her.

"How long have you been standing there?" she asked, uncrossing her arms to take the offered item.

"Not long." He stepped into the room and closed the door behind him. "But long enough to see that you're still not sleeping."

Bristling, she flicked her gaze back up at him over the top of the folder. "I'm fine."

"You're not." He stepped into her space, forcing her to glower up at him defiantly. "You forget that I know you, Quinn, and I know your tell." He looked pointedly down at her mouth and smirked. "You're not fine, and you're exhausted. You need to go home. I can handle things here."

She felt her lip start to curl, but quickly smothered her temper. Ryan looked smug enough, and she didn't need to help prove him right. _Damn him_. "I've got a job to do, Ryan, and a little sleepiness isn't going to keep me from doing it. So we're going to go in there, get what we need, just like always and then, just for you, if I can I'll take a nap. Would that be alright with you?"

His shoulders slumped, slight enough that nobody else would've noticed, but as he'd said, they knew each other. He nodded grudgingly. "Yeah, boss."

"Good. Great. Now back to asshole number five hundred and three in there…"

* * *

"_You know, it's really easy to cause someone unbearable pain. Too easy, perhaps. And yet in movies you see all these elaborate methods. I prefer simple and excruciating. Maybe I'm lazy - do you think I'm lazy, Agent Fabray?"_

_Quinn glared up at him, the gag in her mouth keeping her from responding even if she'd wanted to, and struggled as best she could with her hands and legs tied to the table. _

"_I don't need you to talk. I don't need anything from you, so don't think I'll stop if you act like you've got something to tell me. This is purely for my enjoyment and revenge. You fucked things up for me, so I think we'll just see how stubborn you can be." He stepped up closer to her and smiled nastily, holding up a pair of pliers for her to see. "These are nice and heated now. Should I start with your cute little toes or those pretty fingers?"_

Quinn bolted upright, nearly rolling right out of the bed as consciousness slammed back into her. For a moment she didn't know where she was. The room was dark, gloomy with predawn light, and nothing looked familiar draped in shadows. Her chest heaved painfully as she struggled to steady her breathing through the rising panic attack and urge to vomit. She choked on the whimper trying to escape the tight confines of her throat and pressed the back of her hand hard against her lips to keep it inside. The last vestiges of her flashback faded from her mind leaving her feeling hollow and still terrified. She knew she was in a bed and not strapped to a table; she could feel the softness of the mattress, the warmth of the blankets, but it wasn't a comfort. Even the sound of her skin sliding against the sheets was too loud in her ears, scaring her further. Tears ran from the corner of her eyes as she screwed them shut, trying to focus on silence – she needed silence. Her body felt like it was ramped up on pure adrenaline and a gallon of Redbull.

She could've sworn that her skin was actually vibrating with all of the energy.

A soft snort sounded behind her, alerting her to a presence at her back, and then it all came rushing back. Rachel. God, she was at home in their bedroom - in their _bed_ - and her wife was still asleep behind her. She heard a groggy mumble and felt the bed dip as Rachel shifted. Quinn thought she heard her name and realized she must have disturbed Rachel when she woke up. Her heart continued to race, pulse pounding away in her ears, but it was slowing, the tension draining as she listened to quiet, stuttered snores.

The details of her dream came back in a flood of garish images, the sound of her own muffled screams so loud in her ears that she put her hands over them. She shuddered, and Rachel grumbled again. Not wanting to completely wake Rachel, Quinn peeled the blankets off her legs and swung them around, toes digging into carpet, freezing and eyeing the room as though one of the shadowy shapes might leap at her. Dropping her head into her hands she groaned quietly, peeking through her fingers over at the clock.

Two A.M.

Twisting around to look at Rachel, she was just able to make out a frown and wrinkled forehead. One of Rachel's hands slid over the mattress, reaching out towards the still warm space Quinn had just left.

"Quinn?"

"I'm here," Quinn licked her lips and softly touched Rachel's fingers. "I'm here, Superstar. Go back to sleep."

Rachel hummed, and pulled her hand back into her body. "'m asleep."

Quinn carefully stood from the bed and stumbled out of the bedroom as quietly as she could. Making her way down the stairs, she shivered as her eyes darted around searching for anything out of the ordinary, her whole body still buzzing. It took her a minute to find the remote but as soon as she turned on the TV she felt herself calming, just enough that she no longer felt like she might hyperventilate. Turning the volume down until it was barely a whisper she sat down on the couch, watching the images flicker, splashing the room with different colors. She didn't even know what show was on and she didn't really care. Sinking deeper into the cushions she exhaled hard through her nose, eyes drooping shut. They burned, almost ached, with need for rest, and a couple of tears escaped from under her lashes to runn in thin lines down her cheeks. She was so tired. It wasn't long until she allowed herself to fall, slumping down further and further until her cheek hit the cushion and she stretched out fully, blearily staring at the television.

She didn't even know that her eyes had closed again until they were flying back open with the press of something warm on her shoulder.

"Oh, baby," Rachel whispered, rubbing her palm along Quinn's spine. She sighed, still half asleep and unsure of what she could possibly say to make this better. Instead of even attempting anything verbal, Rachel decided to go with option B. Gingerly, she climbed up onto the couch and laid down, covering Quinn's body with her own. Nuzzling against her wife's shoulders she slipped her arms underneath Quinn's, squeezing gently against her ribs. "Go to sleep, I've got you."

With Rachel's comforting weight keeping her grounded, Quinn all but passed out within a couple of minutes, releasing another long sigh as she dropped off.

Rachel fought off sleep for a little longer, waiting to see if Quinn would stay asleep this time. She turned her head, smiling sadly when she saw fluffy baby seals on their television. "Monsters aren't real," she mumbled and squeezed Quinn again.

* * *

Despite the fact that Rachel had told her to stay home and nap while she took the kids to the park, Quinn had refused. She had the day off and she wasn't going to spend it trying to sleep – not when she could be with her family.

Unfortunately, once they arrived at the sunny little park, Quinn wished she'd stayed behind. It should have been relaxing, watching the twins clamber on equipment and Caleb squeal happily while Rachel pushed him in a swing, but with her senses on high alert Quinn couldn't allow herself to enjoy it. She resorted to watching them all from a nearby park bench, within a couple of steps of Rachel and Caleb, where she could scan constantly, taking note of the other parents and kids. That slimy feeling was creeping down her back again. Someone was watching them. She could feel it.

Her head snapped around as a red dot appeared on Rachel's forehead as she bent down to kiss Caleb's head, and Quinn's entire world narrowed down to that one point of light as her heart leapt into her throat. Reacting on instinct, she threw herself off the bench and slammed into Rachel, driving them both into the yielding playground sand. Rachel groaned from the force of the tackle, but Quinn was already shooting back up, pistol out and trained unwaveringly on their attacker.

Only to nearly collapse when she saw a child with a toy gun gaping up at her.

"Quinn!" Rachel shrieked, climbing to her feet and rushing to soothe a now screaming Caleb.

The little boy took off, crying for his mother, and Quinn slumped onto a nearby swing as her knees wobbled. "I thought he was going to shoot you." Rachel glared at her as she scooped Caleb out of the swing and cradled him to her chest.

"Mommy!" Olivia called, racing over to them with Eliza hot on her heels. "What happened? Mama okay?"

"We're fine, Monkey, it's time to go home though." Rachel said and reached a hand out for Olivia to take.

Eliza watched, just a step away from her parents, then slowly moved forward and encased Quinn's leg in a tight embrace. "Mama, you look scared."

Quinn set her hand against Eliza's dark hair and stared down into wide brown eyes. She looked helplessly back at Rachel, saw those same concerned eyes, and shook her head. "I'm sorry."

By the time they got home, put Caleb down for a nap, and sent the twins off to play in their room,

Quinn was shaking and Rachel was still quiet. She'd been silent the whole ride home, sitting in the passenger seat with her head propped up on her hand, staring at Quinn.

"What is going on?" Rachel blurted and dropped the coffee scoop she'd been holding. "This is – something different than normal."

"I don't know," Quinn sighed, rubbing at her scar with a frown. It had become something of a nervous habit, but she couldn't seem to stop herself. "I just feel like someone's watching us."

Rachel nodded and abandoned her coffee making endeavors completely, stepping over to Quinn's side and pulling her head against her stomach. She ran her hand over blonde hair absentmindedly and bit her bottom lip, wondering how to say what was on her mind without angering Quinn. "How – have you considered talking to the FBI therapist about it?"

Quinn jerked out of the embrace, "They'll take me out of the field, Rachel."

"Would that really be so awful? Maybe a break is what you need."

"No," Quinn said sharply and stood up from the table. "They'll take me out and then I'll have to fight to get back. Again."

"Then talk to me," Rachel pressed, "Please."

"I can't, Rachel."

"Damn it, Quinn," Rachel snapped, throwing her hands in the air. Nothing was working, not gentle coaxing, not patience, nor physical comfort. She was angry, she was tired, and she was hurt – so very hurt. "Stop pushing me away when I'm trying to help you! You're not sleeping. You're barely eating – I can't just watch you fall apart! Talk to me."

"I _can't_. You know I can't."

"Bullshit," Rachel growled. "Bullshit! You know better than that. You know I would never tell anyone, so what this comes down to is the fact that you don't _trust me_."

"That's a hell of an accusation," Quinn snarled back, eyes flashing dangerously.

"Well what else is it? Quinn, you pointed a gun at a child today. You could have killed him. What happens next time when it's me, or one of the twins, that startles you? Do you have any idea what kind of damage you inflicted on that boy? He'll probably never go to the park again! You need to figure this out. _We_ need to figure this out before you permanently scar our children with your... whatever it is!"

"Oh yeah, because I'm sure hearing us screaming at each other is great for them, Rachel!" Quinn shouted, clenching her hands into fists. The exhaustion she was battling overwhelmed her, making it that much harder for her to keep a lid on her emotions. Anger and fear warred inside of her, creating a desperation she couldn't keep a handle on. "Don't you think I _know_ that I fucked up? Do you think I like what's going on? I feel like I'm losing my mind, Rachel. I was just trying to protect you!"

"From a child with a toy!" Rachel spun around, wiping furiously at her traitorously crying eyes, and wrenched open the fridge. She reappeared with a bottle of Vitamin Water, and slammed the door shut, lips in a thin line. "A _toy_! It's all in your head! Nobody is trying to sho-"

The bottle in Rachel's hand exploded, spraying them both. Rachel screamed and Quinn didn't hesitate, throwing herself at Rachel for the second time in the span of an hour. She tried her best to cradle Rachel's head, to soften the landing, to keep her from any further injury, while the space above their heads turned into a war zone. Bullets rained through the window, destroying their kitchen. Using her body to shield Rachel as much as possible, Quinn pinned her to the floor, covering her head.

"Quinn!"

"Stay down, Rachel," Quinn ordered, tightening her grip on Rachel's slender form and pressing her harder into the tile.

"The kids!"

"Just stay down!"

The shooting stopped just as suddenly as it started, the room eerily quiet in its wake. Quinn heard the screech of tires and was up and out the door, gun in hand, before she even thought about it. She tore down the driveway and turned the corner, pistol up and ready, pointing at the retreating car racing away down the street.

"Fuck."

Running back to the house she winced as she saw their shattered window and hurried into the kitchen. Rachel was still on the floor, sitting against the island with her legs tucked up to her chest, cell phone clutched in her hand.

"Quinn," she whimpered.

"Are you – did you…?"

"No." Rachel started crying and Quinn quickly dropped to her knees, throwing her arms around her wife. "It – they hit the bottom of the bottle."

_Thank God_, Quinn thought, as she sat down and dragged Rachel into her lap. "Okay, shh, did you call the police?"

"You were right... you were right... I'm so sorry," Rachel sobbed, face firmly hidden away in Quinn's chest. "No, I – my hands are – I couldn't push the buttons."

"Here's what's going to happen: you go upstairs, take Caleb and the girls, and go into our room. Stay there until I come get you."

Rachel nodded rapidly, struggling to stand back up on trembling legs. Quinn stood up with her, keeping contact until she absolutely had to let go. She rushed back into the kitchen and plucked up Rachel's abandoned phone, hastily dialing Ryan's number.

Running a shaking hand through her hair, she stared at the ceiling to avoid seeing the mess in the kitchen. "Ryan? Get over here, right now, someone just shot up my house."

* * *

TBC...


	2. Chapter 2

AN: Thank you so much for the reviews, your comments always make me smile! This chapter is a long one, buckle up.

* * *

The decision to send the kids away was both the easiest decision Quinn had ever made, and also the hardest. After the surreal experience of having her kitchen turned into a crime scene, the only thing she could really think of was how to protect her family. Rachel had readily agreed, though Quinn caught her wiping at her eyes as she packed tiny luggage.

Cam was more than willing to take her nieces and nephew for a couple of days, happily saying 'yes' even before Quinn had explained _why_.

They were all sitting on the couch now, waiting for Cam to arrive from Philly. Olivia and Elizabeth were excited about spending time with their cousins, and Quinn was glad for the distraction; she hadn't been sure how they would react after first hearing a fight between their parents and then gunfire. They seemed okay though, sitting sedately on either side of Rachel, caught up in Tangled. Honestly, Quinn was more worried about Rachel, who had barely said a word to her since the police had left. She turned and saw that Rachel had her eyes closed, arms around their daughters.

"Uh!" Caleb burbled, drawing Quinn's attention down to her lap. He was grinning up at her, chubby fists waving. Quinn raised an eyebrow and bounced him lightly on her legs.

"Close, Peanut," she told him, touching her finger to his button nose. "Mama."

"Mmm," he said and tangled his hand in her hair, tugging harder than she would have liked.

"Mama," she said again, patiently freeing her hair from his grasp. "Mama loves you."

He hummed again and knocked his head back against her sternum.

"Think he'll talk soon?" Rachel asked, speaking so suddenly that Quinn jumped.

"I don't know. He's trying," she picked him up and turned him around to face her fully. "What do you think, little man, are you going to talk to me?"

Caleb didn't say anything, of course, just smiled again and stuffed his fist into his mouth.

"Gross," Eliza giggled, watching drool drip down her brother's arm.

Quinn smiled indulgently, beaming at Caleb as he removed his hand and slapped it to her cheek, leaving a slobbery trail.

Rachel chuckled quietly, "I think he tried to give you a kiss."

"Of course he did... he loves his Mama," Quinn scrunched her face up and turned her head like she was going to nibble his fingers. He squealed and yanked his hand back, then slowly reached out again, bursting into bubbly laughter when she went for them again.

"Mama, ew," Olivia said, nose wrinkling at the sight. "He's drooly."

"He's a baby," Rachel said, smile growing as she watched Quinn play with Caleb. "You drooled on us too."

A knock at the door disrupted the family time, and Quinn sighed as she stood and handed Caleb off to Rachel. She grabbed her pistol and kept it by her thigh to hide it from Liv and Eliza as she approached the front door. The peephole revealed Cam and Sean, so she tucked the Glock into her pants under her shirt and carefully opened the door.

Cam flew at her, grabbing her in a tight hug. "Quinn, I'm so glad you guys are okay."

"Hi, Cam, Sean," Quinn pulled back from the embrace. "Thank you so much for doing this for us. Where are Abbey and John?"

"With my parents," Sean said, tugging Quinn over to him for a one armed hug.

"Aunt Cam!" two voices chimed out in unison. Quinn barely got out of the way in time as Eliza and Liv darted through the door and collided with Cam's legs.

"Hey guys! Gosh, you're getting so big," Cam gushed, kneeling down to hug them. "You excited to come stay with us?"

"Yeah!" Liv said, stretching her arms out to Sean who gladly bent and picked her up. Eliza hesitated, looking back at Quinn.

Quinn smiled tightly at her, chest pinching at the sad and hesitant expression on Eliza's face. "You'll have fun, Bug," she promised. _And you'll be safe_. She turned to look for Rachel, who walked up nuzzling against Caleb's towhead.

"Hi there, sis," Cam said, smile softening. "How are you holding up?"

"Just another day in the Fabray household," Rachel joked, but Quinn saw her arms tighten around Caleb. "Thank you, really, this is – I can't tell you how much this means to us."

"I can guess," Cam responded, stooping slightly to look Caleb in the eye. He ducked his head and pressed his face into Rachel's chest bashfully. "He's getting big too. What are you feeding these guys?"

"It's the vegan food," Quinn quipped, and kissed the side of Rachel's head, pleased when she didn't flinch away.

"Do you guys want to come in for a moment?" Rachel asked, clutching the still hiding Caleb that much closer, knowing she'd have to let go soon and desperately wanting to prolong that.

Sean shared a quick look with Cam and then shrugged. "Sure, I can take a look at the kitchen and see if I could fix some of the damage."

Rachel nodded and tilted her head back into the house, leading the way. Sean followed, Liv and Eliza holding on to his hands, but Cam stayed where she was, critically eyeing her sister's face.

"You don't look so good," she commented once everyone was out of immediate earshot.

Quinn snorted, "Would you?"

"No, but that's not what I mean. You look exhausted, Quinn." Cam narrowed her eyes, taking in Quinn's more than obvious haggard appearance. She couldn't exactly pinpoint the cause, of course, but she knew her sister well enough to know something was wrong.

"I, uh, I haven't - there's something..." Quinn trailed off, not entirely sure what to say or how to even begin explaining the situation.

"Are you and Rachel okay, really? What's going on?"

Quinn glanced over her shoulder nervously, "Let me get the kids stuff and we can talk while I load your van?"

Cam shrugged, worrying her bottom lip as she picked up Caleb's diaper bag, watching Quinn bend to grab the handles of two colorful suitcases and two small backpacks.

Neither of them said a word until Quinn opened up the back of the van.

"Rachel thinks I don't trust her," she blurted and then slumped, tears stinging her eyes. "I haven't – I haven't been sleeping well and she wants me to talk to her about it and I _can't_. I was feeling paranoid and I did something stupid today and then this," she waved her hand at their plastic covered window.

"Quinn," Cam said slowly, sitting down on the bumper. "Rachel loves you. She just wants to help - I'm assuming this is all work related somehow?"

"Yes, which is why I can't tell her."

With a snort, Cam reached out and grabbed Quinn's wrist, lightly pulling her down onto the bumper as well. "Yes, you can. She's not going to tell anyone. That's a lame excuse and you know it."

"That's not – it's not about protocol," Quinn sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. "These things that she wants to know, they're ugly, Cam. They're awful. I don't want her to have those images in her head, to upset her like that."

Cam put her arm around her sister's shoulder and leaned her head over until her temple bumped Quinn's. "You keep trying to protect her from _you_. Do you realize that?"

"I'm a monster," Quinn whispered. "My life, my job... they've put her in danger before, I just didn't want it to come home too."

"First off, you're not a 'monster', and I never want to hear you say that again," Cam said firmly, tapping Quinn's knee with one long finger. "I mean it. Never again. You're a hero, Quinn - you're Rachel's hero and you're those little girls' hero. Second…" Cam turned Quinn's face so she could peer into murky, red-tinged, hazel eyes. "Heroes need to lean on people sometimes, too. Superman had Lois, Spiderman had Mary Jane - Quinn has Rachel."

Quinn laughed and wiped at her eyes. "You're such a nerd. But I think I'm more of a Vader and she's my Padme."

"Oh, yeah, and I'm the nerd... How dare you reference those awful films." Cam nudged Quinn with her shoulder and shook her head. "I'm serious though, Q. Rachel wants you to be able to lean on her, so give her that. You think you're protecting her, but you're really just locking her out. It must be horribly irritating, dealing with you every day."

"Hey!" Quinn slapped at her good naturedly.

"Come on, let's go back inside. We need to go."

Reality fell back on Quinn, the weight so heavy on her chest she felt like she was being smothered. She shuffled behind her sister, dragging her feet up the walkway and trying to get control of her emotions so she didn't upset the twins.

Of course it wasn't Olivia and Eliza who had a hard time with leaving; they practically launched themselves into the car, chattering away at Sean as he buckled them in.

Caleb, however, started wailing the second Rachel went to put him in his car seat.

"Peanut, baby, shhh," Quinn soothed, trying to help Rachel fasten the seat belts on the thrashing child. She winced as he grabbed hard at her shirt and Rachel's hair, his screams reaching volume levels she'd never imagined he could produce.

Rachel wasn't fairing much better; she kept wiping tears on her shoulder as she struggled to get the last buckle in place. "You'll be back soon," she told him, whimpering when she succeeded in getting him in place and had to pull away. "It's okay, Caleb."

"Mmaaa," he sobbed and made grabby hands at them, face bright pink from exertion.

Quinn raced into the house and snatched up the stuffed dog from where it lay abandoned on the couch, taking it back to Caleb at a run. "Here, look what I have!" She made a big show of gasping and hugging the toy, relieved when he stopped crying. He hiccupped and took the dog from her, clutching at the ears with a fascinated expression. Rachel slipped his bink into his mouth and they slowly backed away, hoping not to draw attention back on them.

Sean closed the van door and sighed, "He'll be asleep in ten minutes. You two be careful."

"We'll call you when we get home," Cam promised, kissing first Quinn's forehead and then Rachel's.

"I'll call you tomorrow," Quinn said, and wrapped a comforting arm around Rachel's waist.

They watched the minivan pull away, neither able to wave back at Cam, too distraught from having to say goodbye.

"Did, um, did he say 'ma'?" Rachel asked around sniffles.

"I don't know, it sounded like it," Quinn said, using her grip on Rachel's hip to steer her back towards the house.

It seemed so empty now, as she closed the front door behind them. There would be no pounding steps as the twins chased each other around, no squealing laughter, or happy chatter, no drool or stumbling attempts at speech.

"I feel hollow," Rachel said, also looking around the house.

"You should have gone with them," Quinn replied, turning to lock the door. She removed her Glock from her pants and set it back down on the entryway table, preparing herself for the conversation she desperately needed to have with Rachel.

"I couldn't leave you," Rachel whispered, then stepped away to turn off the television. The silence was sudden and uncomfortable, and left them both with the feeling that things might have been left too long unsaid.

"Rachel…"

"Don't, Quinn. I don't want to hear about how it's not safe and how stupid I am to be staying here."

The bitter, biting tone to Rachel's words knocked Quinn back a step. "I'm trying to _protect _you."

"I'm so tired of you saying that," Rachel growled, pure agony all but radiating from her teary eyes. "I'm fucking sick of it. When are you going to see that _I'm_ trying to protect _you_? What's it going to take, Quinn? Tell me - I want to know. Is it going to be when you finally collapse under the weight of everything you bottle up? Or will it be the first and last time you lose it around our children?"

"We're really going to do this now?" Quinn asked, feeling the stirrings of anger and guilt in her gut. She'd known that they'd eventually end up here. It was unavoidable. Rachel hated being pushed away, no matter the reason, and it was probably partly because of high school. She wanted to be included and Quinn couldn't fault her for that. Even knowing that, she really had hoped that the situation would work itself out before they got to this point.

"Why not, Quinn? The kids aren't here now to hear us fighting - wasn't that your concern earlier?" Rachel waved her hands around the vacant room. "Go ahead, fire away. They're gone."

Quinn gaped at her, momentarily stunned, jaw working as she tried to find words. Something to say that could fix this. Her control was wavering, and with everything else piling on top of her she ended up spewing the first thing that came to mind.

"Why are you so frustrating," Quinn ground out, struggling with the urge to raise her voice to match Rachel's. She didn't want to fight with Rachel; she wanted to talk to her. But now she'd said the wrong thing and realized it too late, the echo of a prior conversation years ago written on Rachel's shocked expression.

"I'm frustrating?" Rachel yelled and put her fists on either side of her temples. "_I'm _frustrating? You won't talk to me! You don't trust me! I'm your goddamn wife, Quinn!"

"I know that!" Quinn shouted back, barely able to keep her temper in check. "Jesus, Rachel, you act like I've had an affair or something!"

"You might as well have!" Rachel covered her eyes and wrapped an arm around herself, shaking from head to toe. "You're keeping secrets, painful secrets, and you're closing me off from you! That's how it starts!"

"I have never, would never, and will never cheat on you," Quinn spat, stomach twisting at the thought. "Never." As tangled as her thoughts were, she didn't understand how they'd gotten to this point. When had _cheating_ become the issue? Rachel knew better than that. She had to.

"I can't keep doing this," Rachel muttered, shaking her head and looking anywhere but at Quinn. "I can't. I refuse to sit here and ignore you. Which is basically what you're asking of me, because you think that's how you keep me safe. By locking away the things you should be talking to me about. But it's not going to work like that anymore."

Quinn felt the blood drain out of her face at the simple implication. "What are you saying?"

"I'm saying, Quinn, that if we continue on like this something bad is going to happen. To you, to me, the kids. In the past week you woke up screaming, hit me when I tried to wake you up, and pointed a loaded pistol at a child. I don't want to, you know I don't, but if you can't start opening up and trusting me enough to help you get through this... I'll leave. It's not just you and me I have to think about anymore. We have children, Quinn, and if they're not safe around you then that's it. I love you, but I have to think about them." Rachel froze immediately, eyes widening as though she couldn't believe what she'd just threatened.

It was like the world dropped out from under Quinn. Knees buckling, she barely made it over to the recliner without falling. "Oh my god, Rachel, no, _please_."

Rachel was openly sobbing now, both palms hiding her face as she seemed to fold in on herself.

Silence fell, weighted and awful, punctuated only by the sounds of Rachel's harsh breathing, and in it Quinn realized just how far she'd pushed her wife. Realized that her need to keep control and stubborn desire to figure things out on her own was jeopardizing the best things in her life.

"His name was Lookhart," Quinn said abruptly, eyes clenched tightly shut. If this is what it took to keep Rachel, she'd spill her guts, but she couldn't look at Rachel, couldn't stand it. Rachel gasped and Quinn powered through. "I didn't tell you because it's… it was so bad and we've been through so much I didn't want to add to it. I didn't want to put this on you with everything else."

"Quinn," Rachel could barely get the name out, her lips were trembling so hard.

"He killed eight people, tortured them in the most horrendous ways. I was new and eager to prove I'd earned my badge, and got careless, cocky. I woke up strapped to a table, Lookhart smirking down at me. I don't know how long it went on... minutes, hours?" Finally Quinn opened her eyes, whining softly in the back of her throat when she saw the shell-shocked look on Rachel's pale tear-streaked face. "The things he did, Rachel, I was begging for him to kill me. When I started to feel like someone was watching us, it triggered the memories and now everytime I close my eyes…"

In two long strides Rachel was at Quinn's side, cradling her face in her palms and gently, lovingly kissing every inch of Quinn's face she could.

That's all it took; Quinn burst into tears, chest heaving with effort as she fisted Rachel's shirt and sobbed into her wife's neck. "Please don't go, Rachel, please don't leave me. I love you."

Unsatisfied with the slight distance between them, Rachel crawled up into Quinn's lap and tried her best to meld them into one person. She palmed the back of Quinn's head, kneading lightly, and ran her other hand up and down her shaking back. "I'm not going – I'm not going anywhere. I just want you to let me in, even if it's scary for both of us."

"Nothing is as scary as the thought of losing you," Quinn whimpered, burrowing deeper into Rachel's body.

"How – how did he…?" Rachel wasn't sure she wanted to know _who_ had killed him, just that he was dead and gone, and could never come after Quinn again.

"I stabbed him; he was going to shoot Ryan."

"Oh, Quinn," Rachel shuddered. "I'm so sorry."

"No, I'm sorry, I never meant for you to feel closed off like this." Quinn sniffed mightily and pulled away to wipe at her eyes. "I get so wrapped up in - I didn't want you to have to deal with this. I didn't want to bring it home."

"We're a couple," Rachel said, helping Quinn wipe away the lingering tears. "We deal with each other's problems and help each other through them, together – that's kind of part of the package."

Quinn smiled weakly and timidly touched her fingertips to Rachel's wedding band. "They did say something about that, didn't they?"

"You bet they did," Rachel said, grabbing that hand and twining their fingers together. "Baby, I'm not leaving, but we need to figure out how to get you some sleep. It's dangerous how little you're getting."

"I know. It's just, it's never lasted this long before," Quinn admitted, adjusting Rachel on her lap, wanting more contact and unable to get it with the way they were sitting. She fumbled along the side of the chair until she found the recline lever and pulled. Rachel giggled as the chair fell back and she tumbled down, pressed snuggly into Quinn's side.

"What helps?" Rachel asked, once Quinn had finished squirming around and re-settled.

"You," Quinn replied, blushing. "I hate waking you up though. You need to sleep, too, Superstar."

Rachel sighed and propped her head up on a hand, the other slipping into Quinn's hair. "This is what I'm talking about. We've got to figure out this crazy protective instinct of yours. While I love that part of you, it's ridiculous that you are denying yourself something I'm more than happy to give. I don't know if you've noticed but when you don't sleep _I_ don't sleep."

"I have noticed and I feel awful," Quinn said, fingers tracing down Rachel's nose and then along her collarbone. "It's embarrassing."

"Well quit," Rachel huffed, drawing Quinn's hand away from her chest. "I mean it. It's nothing to be embarrassed about. You need me, I need you, we need each other, and that's – that's the way it should be. So from now on, instead of making me chase you or force you to talk, how about you just wake me up?"

"You don't have to wake up," Quinn argued lightly, twisting to look at Rachel's much loved and annoying grandfather clock. "We need to leave."

"So it's a contact thing?" Rachel pressed, tugging Quinn back down. "Ryan can wait. God knows we've stayed up for him before."

"I think so. I feel better when I'm touching you, at least." Quinn pursed her lips and fastened her gaze on their tangled fingers. "But I –"

"Quinn, it's not like you're asking for something I can't give you," Rachel assured her, nuzzling against Quinn's hairline. She closed her eyes and thread her arms around Quinn's athletic frame, reveling in the closeness. After the fight – she hadn't been sure what to expect, but she was so glad it had turned out the way it had. "What 'but'?"

"I'm – I'm not _good_, Rachel. I don't deserve that comfort from you; I don't want to drag the dark parts of my life home and I don't want you to see them. I…" Quinn trailed off and shook her head, expelling a hard breath through her nose. "I'm being selfish - I have been selfish, because I want to be with you. I never wanted you to see the monster inside and I'm afraid that I'll ruin us with this, or that you'll finally realize that I'm not who you think I am and you'll leave. I'm just so afraid."

Rachel reared back, her heart stuttering in her chest and a ball of something clogging her throat. "Quinn."

Quinn shook her head again, "You just said it: I hit you. I pointed a gun at a child with intent to use it. I'm terrified that if you leave – Rachel, if you leave all the good things in my life will be gone and I won't have anything left. It would destroy me."

"You are _not_ a monster," Rachel said, with such conviction it gave Quinn the chills. "You are not a monster, Quinn Fabray. We've had this conversation. You've never _been_ a monster. Monsters don't sacrifice for others. Monsters don't kiss 'boo-boos' or sing lullabies, or stop to even consider that they are, in fact, monsters. You are my hero, Quinn, still - always - even with your flaws exposed. They don't make you a monster, they make you _you,_ and I love all of you, not one part or the other."

"But – "

"No," Rachel growled, grasping both of Quinn's hands and placing them on either side of her face. "No, I'm not going to let you do this. I'm here, and I'm staying. Even though you're a little crazy right now. You're going to be fine, we're going to be fine, because this, right here? Talking and listening and maybe fighting sometimes, it's because we care about each other – which is probably another thing monsters don't do. We're going to be okay."

"I really love you," Quinn whispered.

"I love you mucher," Rachel whispered back, a smile threatening as she repeated Quinn's sentiment from years before. "We're going to get through this."

"Okay," Quinn said meekly, brushing Rachel's bangs back and tucking some hair behind her ear.

"Okay," Rachel repeated, nodding her head. "_Now_ we can go to Ryan's."

* * *

The drive into the city was mostly quiet. Rachel kept one hand on the steering wheel, the other clutching at Quinn's. She hadn't said anything but she was terrified, and not just about Quinn's well being. Her kitchen had been shot up and they didn't know by whom or why. While she was glad that their children were safe with Cam and Sean it allowed her to worry more about Quinn and herself, which did nothing to dampen her nervousness.

Though staying with another armed Federal Agent certainly helped.

"Hey," Allison greeted warmly when they finally showed up. Rachel smiled tiredly at her old castmate and accepted the offered embrace. "I'm happy to see you, though the circumstance is less than pleasant."

"Thank you so much for letting us stay here," Quinn said, stepping into the darkened apartment, looking for Ryan.

"Mi casa es su casa," he said, scratching at his head as he came into sight, Semper barrelling after him.

"How many times have I told you to stop trying to speak Spanish?" Quinn asked, wrapping him up in a tight embrace.

Semper streaked right passed them, aiming for Rachel and Allison.

"Hi Semper!" Rachel squealed, dropping to her knees to pet the dog and accept her doggie kisses. "Oh no, Quinn, what about Jeepers?"

"The cat will be fine, Rachel, I'll go home tomorrow and make sure he has food."

Rachel nodded, relieved that her beloved pet would be taken care of and went back to rubbing at Semper's floppy ears. "Have you been a good girl?"

The dog sat and tilted her head to the side, leaning into the ear rub, and making Rachel giggle.

"I've got the guest room all set up for you," Ryan said, proudly watching his dog mind her manners.

"Thank you," Quinn said. "Both of you."

Allison smiled, "Of course. You're both going to work tomorrow?"

"That was the plan," Rachel replied, standing after one last pat to Semper's head.

Ryan watched Quinn out of the corner of his eye and sent Allison a look. "Cool. Coffee will be ready in the morning then."

"I've got an audition in the morning," Allison said, grinning and nudging Rachel. "Maybe you can run through some warm ups with me before I go?"

"Definitely!" Rachel chirped. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"Al's nervous," Ryan said, smiling broadly despite the glare his wife was sending him.

"Allison, you're amazing," Rachel scoffed, "They'd be stupid not to take you."

"That's what I've been telling her," Ryan agreed. "But we probably should head to bed, since we've all got to be up in the morning. You two can catch up and be songbirds then."

"I hate it, but he's right," Allison sighed and hugged Rachel again, briefly. "See you in the morning."

"Okay," Rachel turned her attention from her friend's retreating form back to Quinn. She pursed her lips in thought and sent a glance in Ryan's direction. "Quinn, why don't you go get settled? Ryan, may I have a glass of water?"

Quinn eyed her, recognizing the scheming expression on Rachel's face, but deciding not to say anything, instead simply nodding her head and heading down the hall, Semper at her heels.

"You are anything but subtle," Ryan remarked, leading the way into the kitchen.

Rachel sighed and took a glass from him. "Quinn's not sleeping, I was wondering if you have Benadryl?"

"I noticed that earlier," Ryan said, opening the pantry. "I don't have Benadryl, but I think I've got some Phenergan left over from my shoulder surgery. It's still good. Just make sure she takes half or she won't get up."

"I don't even care if she sleeps through the day," Rachel admitted. In her mind, any sort of relief she could get Quinn, even for just a night, was worth a missed day at work. "I can always call in sick for her."

Ryan pulled free a prescription bottle and squinted to read the label. "I agree. But she'll be pissed and most likely take it out on me, so let's say half and if she sleeps through her alarm talk her into another half using that charm of yours."

"You make it sound so easy," Rachel snorted.

Shrugging, Ryan dug through various drawers until he found a knife and split a pill on the counter top. "Don't tell Al I used a knife on her counter."

"Mum's the word," Rachel assured him, hiding a grin behind her hand. Ryan handed off the half a pill and Rachel held it like it was a long lost treasure. He took the glass from her and filled it before handing it back.

"There, you're set. Now if you'll excuse me, I am missing valuable cuddling time with my smokin' hot wife."

Rachel rolled her eyes but followed after him, padding down the hall. She shoved him lightly and dodged his swat by darting into the guest room.

"Quinn," Rachel said, exhaustion firmly grabbing hold of her as she slouched back against the closed door.

Quinn rolled over under the blankets and held a hand out towards Rachel. "Come here?"

"I have something for you," Rachel eased herself down at Quinn's side and opened her fist to show the pill.

"Rachel..."

"Please?" Rachel encouraged. "Quinn, you need to sleep."

"I'm so tired," Quinn admitted, eyeing the pill with utter distaste. "It's not necessary. Can't I just hold you until I fall asleep? Under my own, uh, power?"

"Quinn," Rachel said a little more sternly, though the hopeful expression on Quinn's face tugged hard on her heartstrings. "For me?"

"That's not fair," Quinn whined, but scooped the pill from Rachel's palm and stuck it in her mouth. Pleased, Rachel handed her the water and watched Quinn swallow with no small amount of displeasure.

"You're worse than the twins," she commented sadly.

Quinn stuck her tongue out at her, but gently cupped Rachel's cheek. "I miss them too."

"Are you still feeling petulant or can there be cuddling now?" Rachel asked, turning to plant a kiss in Quinn's palm.

"Can I think about it?"

Rachel rolled her eyes and slipped in behind Quinn, settling into the 'big spoon' position for the night. "Think all you want, when that kicks in I'll still win."

"You _really_ don't fight fair," Quinn groaned, but obediently laid down and pulled Rachel's arm more firmly over her waist.

"I'm only thinking of you," Rachel sighed, leaning up to softly kiss Quinn's ear. "Brat."

"Hello Pot, you can call me Kettle," Quinn snorted. "Go to sleep."

"You have to turn the light off first," Rachel replied primly, squirming to get more comfortable.

"Bossy," Quinn grumbled, as she leaned over to turn off the lamp.

"You like it."

"The ego," Quinn teased.

"Sleep, Quinn, before I decide to kick your ass."

* * *

"_It's so hard to decide what to do next," Lookhart sighed, running his fingers up Quinn's quivering body. "There's so much to choose from. Unspeakable things."_

_She was too tired and in too much pain to do more than shake her head, eyes screwed shut as she panted around the gag. He'd ripped out all of her toenails and fingernails with the hot pliers, then amused himself with half-drowning her over and over. She was freezing, naked, exposed and strapped down, and bleeding heavily from the nasty hole in her thigh. There was nothing left, at least not that she could imagine, for him to do. What else was there?_

_He tilted her head to the side and she didn't resist him, couldn't find the strength to pull away from his touch no matter how much she wanted to._

"_I could skip to something a little more pleasant, I suppose. Well, more pleasant for me," he said lightly. Like he was talking about the weather, but Quinn heard the sound of a zipper and shuddered hard. "Hm, maybe not. Not yet, I think I'll save that for last, if I can help myself."_

_Quinn whimpered, glad to have escaped that fate but terrified for what he'd choose in its place._

"_Ah! I know," he chirped and left her side for a few precious seconds. She took the time to try and catch her breath, to prepare herself for whatever was to come. "I read about this one. The Middle East is fascinating, just utterly fascinating, you know? Such a rich culture."_

_Just as he had every time, he came up to show her the item he was going to use, proudly displaying a cane with all the giddiness of a child presenting an art project for the fridge._

"_Foot whipping," he announced, grinning. "It's ingenious really. See there's all these nerves, tendons, and delicate bones in your feet... it's said to be particularly brutal, but leaves few marks! How about that!"_

_Quinn curled her toes and bit into the gag, a pitiful, keening cry escaping her throat._

"_Let's begin, shall we? I'm anxious to see your reaction." He left again and she tensed, waiting for the first blow. She heard the whistle of the cane moving through the air seconds before searing pain ripped up her body._

_There was nothing she could do but scream in agony._

"No!" Quinn barked, trying to sit up and failing. Something, someone was holding her down, trapping her. "Get off of me!"

"Quinn," Rachel said, letting go of her hold on Quinn's torso. "_Quinn_."

Recognizing Rachel's voice Quinn ceased her struggles and flopped back on the bed, panting harshly, a forearm over her eyes as hot tears spilled down her cheeks. "God."

"Shh," Rachel soothed, dropping back to her side and tentatively touching her fingers to Quinn's arm. "Shh, baby, it's not real."

"It _was_ real," Quinn choked out. "Rachel."

"I know, but you're safe now," Rachel whispered, wiping at her own eyes as she curled her hand around Quinn's arm and pulled it away. "You're safe, I'm not going to let anyone hurt you."

"I ne - I need some water." Quinn's voice trembled, and Rachel watched her collapse in on herself with tears in her eyes.

"Okay, come on, we'll get you some water." Happy to have some way to help, Rachel scrambled up from the blankets and stretched her hand out for Quinn to take. "What else?"

"Can we, um, the TV, light, quiet sound," Quinn mumbled shakily, threading her fingers with Rachel's and squeezing.

Rachel nodded and couldn't help leaning up to kiss the corner of Quinn's mouth. "Whatever you need, baby." She led the way out into the dark hallway and felt Quinn tuck herself in closer, shivering. Her stomach twisted painfully at the thought of what Quinn had gone through. She didn't have to hear the details; they weren't necessary. The whimpers that Quinn made while trapped in the throes of her nightmare were enough, and the way she woke from them just further testament to the pain and fear she must have lived through.

Quinn gulped down two glasses of water under Rachel's careful watch. Her shaking had stopped, but she was still twitchy, even jumping when the fridge groaned.

"Baby," Rachel said, hating to see Quinn like that. "Come here?"

"I'm sorry," Quinn said weakly, stepping into the embrace and dropping her head into the warm crook of Rachel's neck. "I'm so sorry."

"You don't have anything to be sorry for," Rachel murmured. "Not a thing. Let's see if I can figure out Ryan's TV."

Keeping her arm around Quinn, Rachel cautiously led them to the worn leather couch. Quinn collapsed onto it, jerking at the sound.

"It's okay," Rachel said, tucking strands of soft blonde hair behind pale ears. "Shh, it's okay. What would you like to watch?"

"It doesn't matter, just nothing action packed. Please."

It took her a minute to find the remote in the dark, but find it she did and when she flicked it on she smiled, waving it back at the screen. "The Military Channel?"

"No, um, something quieter?"

Rachel nodded and fiddled with the remote, "Animal Planet?"

"Okay."

Nodding again, Rachel set the remote down after finding the channel and turned to regard her wife in the glow of the TV. Quinn was pale, even paler than normal, her eyes red rimmed and dark underneath, and cheeks flushed with obvious tear tracks. Heart heavy, Rachel eased down on the cushion next to Quinn and touched her cheek with the backs of her fingers. "What can I do? Contact, right?"

"Lay back?" Quinn requested, turning those troubled eyes onto Rachel who struggled to keep from reacting.

Curious as to what Quinn had planned, Rachel pulled her legs up and scooted her way down until her head was pillowed on the armrest. Quinn gently pressed Rachel's knees apart, crawling forward to lay her head down on Rachel's stomach.

Without hesitation Rachel palmed the back of Quinn's head, scratching her nails lightly the way she knew that Quinn loved. "Better?"

"I feel like a burden," Quinn whispered.

"You're not."

"But I _feel _like one."

"Quinn," Rachel sighed, sliding her other hand under the collar of Quinn's t-shirt to rub at her shoulders and the base of her neck. "Please don't feel guilty about this."

"I can't help it, I just... I want to be the woman you married not this - this _disaster_."

Feeling dampness on her stomach, Rachel closed her eyes and clutched tighter at Quinn's shoulder. "Quinn, I married you. I knew what I was doing, and I would do it all over again in a heartbeat. Don't think for a second that I regret it, or you, or our children. I love you - I love you so much - and it's killing me to see you like this, but I promise I'm going to do everything I can to help you."

"I want it to go away," Quinn said thickly, sleep heavy upon her.

It would never go away, Rachel knew that, knew that those memories would always be there. She didn't know what to say or how to make Quinn feel better about it. It made her feel like a failure - helpless. "I wish I could do that, baby, I really do. What can I do?"

"You're doing it, right now."

"I would do more - anything - if you asked," Rachel promised.

* * *

Rachel didn't even know that she'd fallen asleep until a pressure on her shoulder had her jerking back awake. Her hands clutched tightly at the fabric of Quinn's shirt, expecting another nightmare, but Quinn was still asleep, nose digging into Rachel's stomach, mouth open.

"Sorry."

Tipping her head back Rachel finally caught sight of Allison standing over her with a sheepish expression. "Allison."

"Yeah, sorry," Allison said again. "Semper kept scratching at the door and Ryan's dead to the world, so I came out to investigate. What are you guys doing out here? Is everything okay?"

"Quinn…" Rachel hesitated, protectively holding Quinn as she adjusted her body so she could look at Allison more comfortably without completely removing her adorably drooling wife. "Quinn hasn't been sleeping; she's having really bad nightmares – night _terrors_. She wanted to come out here with the TV. Something about the light and low sound."

To Rachel's surprise, Allison merely nodded and sat down in the nearby recliner. "That sounds familiar."

"Ryan gets them too?" Rachel asked hopefully, then added, "Quinn - she has had nightmares before, but they've _never_ been this bad. I feel like I'm watching her self-destruct and it's awful. I can't fix it."

"Sometimes," Allison said. "I know he has flashbacks about the war, but I've never outright asked him."

"Why not?"

Allison shrugged, "I don't need the details and pushing him would only make his anxiety worse. If he feels comfortable enough to talk to me about it I'd listen, of course, but he tends to shut down when I make him talk."

Guilt crashed down on Rachel, as harsh as a slushie to the face. "I – I made Quinn talk to me, she's been such a mess and I was worried. Did I do the wrong thing?"

"Q's not Ryan," Allison soothed. "They're similar but very different too. Besides, she's your wife, you know her best. If your heart was telling you to get her to talk I'm sure it was right."

"What do you do when Ryan has nightmares?" Rachel licked at her lips and looked down at the mop of blonde hair on her stomach, feeling a surge of affection and worry.

"It depends, but mostly I just do something to take his mind off of it. We'll go for a run, or I'll whine that my back hurts until he agrees to a couple's massage. I'll suffer through The Hangover because it's his favorite and we'll have pizza and beer. Or, well, I mean sex works – and it has the added bonus of knocking him out." Allison blushed and cleared her throat. "I make sure to keep contact with him, because it seems to calm him and I think it reminds him where he is. Here, with me."

"That's – I should have thought about some of that," Rachel said, displeased with herself. It sounded so simple and she'd completely blown it. "Quinn said contact helps her calm down too."

"Does Quinn see a therapist?" Allison asked gently, wincing a little at the word. "Ryan does, even though he _hates_ it."

"What is it with the therapy hatred?" Rachel huffed, shaking her head. "No, Quinn doesn't want to go back to therapy after what happened the last time."

"That was different though, right? That was official FBI business. I'm talking about a specialist outside the Bureau."

Rachel shook her head again, "I've been afraid to bring it up again. Do you think maybe Ryan could?"

"I'm sure he'll complain about it but yes, I can ask him to do that." Allison leaned her chin down her palm and studied Rachel in the flickering light. "You know we love both of you, right?"

"Of course," Rachel said.

"Then you'll understand that I have to ask… how are _you_?"

"I'm – I'm exhausted, emotionally, physically, and I'm scared," Rachel confessed, screwing her eyes shut. "Today was like the terrifying climax in my slow building thriller of a week. Quinn's been escalating towards something and I'm just so scared of what it is – what it means."

"You two have horrible luck," Allison said bluntly, flashing a brief grin when Rachel barked a laugh in response. "Seriously, the amount of things that have happened to you – I'm actually surprised you haven't been dealing with anxiety attacks. Quinn must be a master at hiding things, too."

"Oh, trust me; I have been dealing with anxiety for a long time, even _before_ Quinn came back into my life. Our kids, our jobs, it's all been adding to it. I figured one of us would eventually have a meltdown, but Quinn is a master at hiding things so I thought it would be me who ended up cracking." Sighing deeply, Rachel rolled her eyes and stared up at the ceiling. "She tries to bury her problems because she thinks it's weakness to expose me to them. Which, by the way, is annoying as hell – I want to hear them. I want her to be able to lean on me when she's feeling less than Wonder Womanly."

"Maybe this is your opportunity to show that to her?"

Rachel sleepily cocked her head to the side, curiosity filling her expression. "… Explain?"

"You're a talker, Rach," Allison said and ducked her head when Rachel shot her a glare. "It's not _bad_, but instead of jumping right into the talking you could show her that you're there first?"

Rachel pursed her lips, thinking back on the things Allison said she did for Ryan. "So instead of demanding she tell me what's wrong when I know something's bothering her… I just take her out for a run, or seduce her? Isn't that going to help her avoid talking to me all together?"

"Like I said, I don't know Q as well as you, but maybe it'll just show her that you care and understand – subtly getting you under her defenses. Then she'll open up on her own and you won't have to fight for it. You give her a safe, comforting environment, make her feel loved and accepted, and I'd be willing to bet she turns in to a chatterbox."

"I'm starting to think you don't know either of us," Rachel quipped. "Subtlety isn't exactly my forte, and Quinn is afraid I'll leave her if she talks to me about the quote-unquote _bad_ things."

"She's never opened up to you?" Allison frowned and narrowed her eyes at the still slumbering Quinn. "Ever?"

"At her father's funeral," Rachel said. "When I was pregnant... a few other times here and there. She's just a very private person."

"I'm not a couple's therapist by any stretch of the imagination, but I think if you try the subtle method she might surprise you," Allison said. "You might want to look into that down the road too, the couple's therapy."

"Oh yeah, Quinn's going to love that," Rachel grumbled. She went to move her free hand up behind her head and accidentally knocked the TV remote onto the floor with a loud clatter.

Allison and Rachel froze as Quinn snorted and lifted her head a couple of inches off of Rachel's stomach. She stared at Rachel for a long moment, bleary eyed and clearly not fully awake. Allison snickered quietly at the dazed look on Quinn's face and Rachel practically melted into a puddle at how cute she found it.

"Rachel?"

"Shh, Quinn," Rachel said, tenderly wiping saliva off Quinn's bottom lip. "Go back to sleep."

Quinn continued to stare at her for a long moment, blinking slowly, like it was taking every ounce of strength she had to will her eyelids back up once they'd fallen. Finally she appeared to give up entirely and simply set her head back down in the wet spot on Rachel's shirt. "…'kay."

Allison choked on her laughter and smiled as she stood from the recliner. Grabbing the blanket resting over the back, she unfurled it over Quinn and tapped Rachel's shoulder as she moved around the couch back towards her bedroom. "She'll be alright, Rachel, she's got you."

* * *

TBC...


	3. Chapter 3

AN: I'm expecting questions after this chapter - my inbox is open! You can also find me on Tumblr if you have questions. Thank you so much for reading! Enjoy!

* * *

When Quinn woke in the morning she was confused as to where she was. Her cheek was plastered to something warm that moved and gurgled quietly, and the TV in front of her was definitely not the one Rachel had talked her into getting.

Her memory from the previous day came back in pieces, quick startling flashes that had her tensing immediately. Gunfire, sending the kids away, fighting with Rachel, but everything past arriving at Ryan and Allison's was fuzzy; she did remember taking a pill and sort of recalled asking Rachel to be her pillow.

Licking at her lips and wincing at the film on them, Quinn craned her head up and couldn't help but smile when she saw Rachel watching her with tired eyes. "Hey."

"Good morning, sleepyhead," Rachel murmured back. "How do you feel?"

"Vacant," Quinn eventually settled on, running her tongue around her mouth. She sat up on her elbows and peered down at Rachel's stomach, horrified to find a damp spot with a white ring around it. "Oh my God, I drooled on you," she hissed, completely mortified. Their _infant_ son drooled on them - she was a grown woman!

"It was kind of cute," Rachel said. "Can you sit up though? My neck's stiff."

Quinn heaved herself regretfully off of Rachel's warm body and slouched back against the other arm rest. Worried she'd injured Rachel somehow, she tracked Rachel's movement as her wife sat up with a groan and rolled her neck around a couple of times. "I'm sorry."

Rachel smiled sweetly, if sleepily, brown eyes flashing over at her. "I'm not."

"Thank you for last night," Quinn said, fidgeting as more memories trickled in.

"Quinn, as adorable as you are when you're shy, you don't have to thank me. I _like_ taking care of you... when you let me."

"I'll work on it," Quinn promised, reaching across the couch to take Rachel's hand. "I'm going to work on all of it."

Rachel's smile softened, "I know you will. How are you feeling?"

"Still tired, but better," Quinn said, though she frowned as she looked around the room. "This might sound crazy, but I miss the noise."

Normally they had a few precious minutes first thing in the morning before the house was filled with the sounds of children. A few moments before Caleb would be crying for food and attention, and then the girls would be rushing around asking about breakfast and whining about clothes. No matter how irritated she could get with the pestering and stress of their hectic mornings she missed those little faces so badly. Liv pouting and asking if she could have coffee, Eliza cuddling up to her still sleepy and clingy, and Caleb... Caleb offering her his pacifier and squealing when she kissed his chubby cheeks.

"I miss them too," Rachel said. "Maybe we could Skype with them later?"

Nodding, Quinn tugged at Rachel's hand and leaned back against the armrest, just like Rachel had the night before. Thankfully Rachel seemed to understand what she was doing and allowed Quinn to pull her over and down onto her body. Quinn sighed as Rachel's head landed on her chest, and she wove her hands through thick, dark hair. "I slept through my alarm didn't I?"

"No. It hasn't gone off yet, actually."

Quinn stilled and narrowed her eyes to try and read the time on the DVD player. "Why were you awake then?"

"My thoughts were too busy to be conducive to good sleep," Rachel answered as only Rachel could after forgoing sleep - primly and with a big word thrown in for good measure.

"You're in the studio today, right?" Quinn asked worriedly, picking back up with sifting through Rachel's hair. Rachel hummed and nodded, one of her hands slipping up under Quinn's shirt and splaying out over her ribs. "So you won't be gone all day?"

"I'll be done this afternoon, I think," Rachel said, and Quinn could tell, just from her tone, that she'd closed her eyes.

"I'm thinking I should take the day off and go with you," Quinn confessed, squirming at the slightly ticklish sensation of Rachel drawing shapes against her skin.

"... Because of yesterday."

The urge to say 'duh' flared, but Quinn shook her head instead. "I don't like the idea of you being on your own right now."

"Quinn, we agreed that we couldn't let this change our routine - if we do we could be running forever."

"I want you to be safe," Quinn whispered, squeezing her eyes tightly shut. Hearing Rachel scream the day before and knowing that the shooter could have easily taken Rachel from her made her sick. She bent her head and pressed her mouth against Rachel's hair and held it until the trembling eased.

"I'm scared too," Rachel mumbled after the long pause. "But I'm not going to live my life afraid of everything that _might_ happen. Plus, I trust you to catch this guy. I need you to, because I don't know how I'm going to get through this day knowing our kids aren't home."

"I'd like to say something reassuring," Quinn said against her hair, unwilling to move away from the comfort of having the crown of Rachel's head against her lips. "But all I can think of is 'I will'."

"I know you will," Rachel sighed, squirming to get more comfortable, eyes still stubbornly closed. She relaxed further, and almost purred in contentment when Quinn started scratching at her scalp. Neither said another word, happy to have a second to bask in the silence.

"Good morning," Ryan sang out, dancing into the room and breaking the moment as only he ever could.

Quinn jumped and Rachel whined because the movement caused Quinn's teeth to collide with her head.

"Oh, sorry, inside voice," Ryan said, bending over the back of the couch and ruffling Quinn and Rachel's hair. "Did I interrupt a Hallmark moment?"

"You're _five_," Quinn groaned, dropping her head back against the armrest.

"No, I'm _six_ - my birthday was last month, remember?"

"Allison, make him go away," Rachel called.

"Ryan," Allison said, also popping up over the back of the couch. "Go start the coffee and leave them alone."

He saluted her smartly, kissed the side of her head, and spared a cheeky wink for Quinn before he disappeared from her line of sight. Allison smiled down at them apologetically.

"Sorry, I don't know how it happened, but I married a morning person."

"Normally I'd be singing and dancing right along with him," Rachel grumbled and hid her face further in Quinn's chest. "Today I want the sun to _die_."

"Understandable." Allison chuckled and leaned further over the back of the sofa, long blonde hair falling over her face as she tried to dip far enough to see Rachel's. "As cute as you two are - and it's sort of ridiculous just how cute you are - if you actually intend to go to work, Q, you might want to commandeer the shower."

"Yeah," Quinn agreed half-heartedly. "Maybe I'll feel less zombie-like after."

Rachel frowned and picked her head up from Quinn's sternum, "The pill? You only had half of one."

Quinn shrugged and tapped Rachel on the tip of her nose, "What can I say... I'm a light-weight."

"Al, can you take Semper out?" Ryan called and Allison grinned upside down at them before disappearing.

"Could I talk you into allowing me to share your shower?" Rachel asked, playing her fingers along Quinn's ribs like piano keys. "Then maybe we could Skype with Cam before you leave?"

"I'm not sure about the shower," Quinn said, toying with a lock of Rachel's hair. "With Ryan around anything could happen. But I really like the idea of Skyping."

"Can't forget the Ryan element. What if I promise to throw a tantrum the likes of which he's never seen if he dares to pull one of his impish pranks while we're in the shower?"

"Scary," Quinn approved with a quirked eyebrow and small smirk. "Let's hurry then, and maybe he won't notice..."

"After you," Rachel said, pushing herself off of Quinn and sliding her feet onto the floor.

Quinn took Rachel's hand and tugged her along, holding her free hand up to her mouth in the universal 'quiet' hand signal. Rachel stifled a giggle and nodded, plastering her game face on as she stealthily followed Quinn past the kitchen.

They made it to the bathroom without being noticed and Rachel happily high fived Quinn and then fist pumped in triumph, making Quinn grin.

With the shower turned on extra hot for her benefit, Rachel turned her attention to untying the baggy scrubs she'd spent the night in. They were actually Quinn's scrubs, a pair that Quinn had worn home from one of her various hospital stays. Normally Rachel wouldn't be caught dead in them, but they were so comfortable and she loved stealing Quinn's clothes. In fact, once she'd untied and dropped the scrubs to the floor, she dragged Quinn's borrowed Georgetown t-shirt off over her head.

"I sometimes wonder why you still have your own pajama drawer, since you always end up in mine," Quinn commented.

Rachel shrugged and stuck her hand in the shower stall to test the water. "I like wearing your clothes," she explained simply, winking over her shoulder.

Quinn wrapped her arms around Rachel from behind and herded her into the steamy shower stall. "Well I like your adorable pajamas. Those pink flannel ones with the stars in particular."

"Noted," Rachel said, sighing in pure bliss as the near scalding water pounded down on her tense neck and shoulders.

"We need to talk about something," Quinn said, grabbing Rachel's shoulders and shuffling her around so she could take a turn under the water. "Just in case."

"In case of what?" Rachel asked distractedly, groaning when she realized she'd left her shampoo and conditioner in their bag. She'd have to borrow Allison's.

"In case..." Quinn said gravely, smoothly swapping Rachel positions again once she was finished lathering her hair. "In case something happens. I want you to have a 'code' word if you need to tell me you're in trouble and can't just say it."

"Very Bond," Rachel said, attempting to force some levity into their less than humorous topic of conversation. "I approve. How about 'I left my coat'?"

"That will work," Quinn agreed, grunting when Rachel pressed on her stomach. "What?"

Peering up at Quinn through the water running down her face, Rachel smiled timidly. "You're being protective."

Quinn quirked an eyebrow and wiped at the shampoo meandering down her forehead. "Of course I am."

Rachel wrapped her arms around Quinn's waist and pressed in close, keeping hold of her as she turned and put Quinn under the water.

"Thank you," she said. "I don't say it, but I should. Thank you for taking care of me."

Baffled, but charmed, Quinn kissed the top of Rachel's head. "You don't have to thank me."

"You're always protecting me, and the kids, and sometimes it drives me crazy but you keep us safe and..." Rachel trailed off and squeezed Quinn tighter. "Thank you."

"Rachel, I - Ah! Ow, ow, ow!"

Jerking back in confusion, Rachel saw Quinn hopping up and down and rubbing at her eye. It was really hard not to laugh, once she realized what had happened. "Here, here," she said, reaching up to swipe the suds out of Quinn's face. "Better?"

"It burns!" Quinn whined, still rubbing at her eye. "I haven't gotten shampoo in my eye since high school."

"So much for our tender moment," Rachel sighed. "Finish up here and then Skype before work?"

"Yeah," Quinn agreed. "That sounds nice."

Excited about seeing their kids, Rachel rushed through the rest of the shower, silently loving how synchronized she was with Quinn in sharing the shower. They had it down to an art at this point. For a moment it almost felt like they were at home, rushing to get ready before the twins woke up and came bouncing into the room. Quinn even copped a feel more than once with that familiar mischievous smirk until Rachel batted her hands away.

It wasn't until they exited, grappling over a towel, that Rachel realized that the towel Quinn was trying to wrestle away from her wasn't the one from home - the one splotched pink due to Olivia's attempts at 'helping' with laundry. The bathroom was the wrong color and a different set up than theirs, too.

Rachel's smile fell, and then Quinn's did as well. "Rach?"

Unable to voice all her clashing emotions, Rachel merely shook her head. Quinn cupped her cheek and brushed the soft towel along the other cheek, drying the moisture still there. Teary eyed, Rachel turned her face into Quinn's warm palm.

"It's going to be okay," Quinn said and tugged Rachel into her arms. "I promise."

"I'm worried about you and the kids and I want to go home," Rachel admitted, trying so hard not to cry.

"Everything is going to be okay," Quinn repeated firmly, palming the back of Rachel's wet head and swaying them from side to side. "I'm not going to stop until we're safe and back home."

"I don't want you to get hurt," Rachel whispered, seeing the scar that never ceased to haunt her marking Quinn's skin. "Promise me you'll be careful."

"Rachel, I promise I will do everything in my power to stay out of harm's way, but I _will_ fix this so we can all go home."

Rachel nodded and lightly kissed the scar, sealing the promise away in her mind with the gesture.

* * *

After a few more moments of leaning on each other – until the steam in the bathroom had almost cleared entirely – Rachel and Quinn emerged from the bathroom with matching looks of determination.

Ryan was resting against the wall opposite the door and merely raised an eyebrow at them. "I was going to yell fire, or spider, or something, but I figured my girls could use a moment..."

Quinn eyed him suspiciously as Rachel went straight to him and hugged him tightly. "I knew there was an adult lurking in there somewhere," Rachel said, squeezing him.

"You didn't defile my shower did you?" Ryan asked after clearing his throat. It was his job to be the big kid, the light-hearted guy that could take the sting out of most situations. He wanted nothing more than to do his job for them after seeing just what a mess they both were the previous evening. "I'm a man, you know, and I'm not beyond peeing on things to mark my territory. That is _my_ shower and the only fornication that should take place in it should involve _me_."

Disgusted, but knowing exactly what he was doing, Rachel lightly slapped his chest with a huff and retreated back to Quinn's side.

"You're ridiculous," Quinn commented, looping her arm around Rachel and leading her away from him.

"I'm a guy - a _guy_. You can't turn off all that instinct; it's ingrained," Ryan called after them, smirking to himself when Quinn snorted. _Mission accomplished! _Pleased with his success he disappeared into the bathroom and made sure to shriek loudly about the 'sex smell'.

"He's so full of it," Quinn whispered down to Rachel with a grin.

They broke off, Quinn heading into the guest room to retrieve her laptop and Rachel off towards the kitchen to see if she could help Allison make breakfast.

"You'd think after living with him for this long I'd be used to his antics," Allison said when Rachel turned the corner into the kitchen. "Yet, I'm still surprised how big a goof he is."

"You think he knows that we're on to his game?" Rachel asked, accepting the soy yogurt Allison passed her with a smile.

"No idea, but it's best to let him believe we're all oblivious," Allison stage whispered and went back to stirring scrambled eggs. "There's fruit in the fridge and granola in the pantry for your yogurt, if you'd like."

"Excellent," Rachel said, digging into the fridge and grabbing the package of blueberries. "Since when do you eat soy yogurt?"

"When Q called and asked if you guys could stay here I sent Ryan out to get some vegan friendly foods. I did try one though, not bad." Allison turned away from the skillet and bent to pull out another one. "I think there's some fake sausage in the freezer if you want that too."

"No, this is perfect. Would you like me to cook the bacon?" Rachel grinned at her friend's surprised look. "I don't eat it, but Quinn does and I've learned to tolerate cooking it."

"What a good house wife," Allison teased, dodging the swat Rachel aimed at her. "I've got this. You go – get out of my kitchen – go Skype with your kids."

Right on time, Quinn came into view toting her laptop in one hand, the other holding her cell phone to her ear. "Yeah, thanks Cam," she said and then dropped her phone on the couch. "Cam's getting the girls up. I told her to let Caleb sleep; I don't want to upset him."

Rachel swallowed the sudden lump in her throat and quickly darted to Quinn's side, sitting on the couch and pulling Quinn down beside her. "That's – you're right; he'd probably throw a fit." She was disappointed that she wouldn't be able to see him, unbearably so, but watching him cry would only make the separation worse for all of them.

Clutching at Quinn's hand to keep from fidgeting, Rachel tried to sit still and be patient as the laptop booted up and Quinn typed her password in one-handed. She leaned over to rest her head on Quinn's shoulder and chewed on her bottom lip. Quinn's background came up and Rachel's eyes grew blurry at just the sight of it. The twins grinned at them from the screen, Caleb sitting between them with a perplexed look on his little face, head cocked to the side like a puppy.

They'd only been gone for one night and Rachel already felt like it had been a lifetime.

"Rachel," Quinn said quietly, brushing at the tears on Rachel's face. "Superstar…"

"I know," Rachel said and shook her head, screwing her eyes shut and internally reciting the words to Defying Gravity. "Okay, I've got it under control."

Quinn opened Skype and soon after Cam appeared on the screen. She waved at them and then adjusted the camera so they could see Olivia and Eliza slumped together on the couch. "Girls, you want to say good morning?"

"Mommy, it's early," Olivia whined, her head nestled on Eliza's shoulder.

Eliza rubbed a tiny fist against her eye and peered at the laptop. "Mama, you look funny on the computer."

"Do I?" Quinn asked thickly. Rachel swirled her thumb in small, comforting circles against Quinn's hand. "Did you guys sleep okay?"

"I had a bad dream," Liv said, curling even closer to Eliza.

Rachel's heart dropped into her stomach, "Oh, Monkey, I'm sorry. Do you want to talk about it?"

"You and Mama were yelling and I tried to find you and I couldn't, then a monster took you away and Mama was crying." Liv raised her head and peered directly into the camera. "It was scary. Mama you won't let monsters get Mommy, right?"

"No," Quinn said, clutching harder at Rachel's hand. "Nobody's going to get your Mommy. Monsters aren't real, Livvy, but even if they were I'd never let them get any of you."

"Told you," Eliza said, eyelids drooping rapidly. "Can we come home? I left Pokey, and Livvy forgot Tony."

"I don't need Tony," Liv mumbled. "Stuffies are for babies like Caleb."

Rachel smiled knowingly. "Tony and Pokey are in your backpacks; I thought they might want to go with you." They were talking about the super soft, floppy, _adorable_, stuffed ponies that Leroy and Hiram had given them. Neither girl had been able to say 'pony' but they got pretty close. Rachel was always amused at Liv naming hers 'Tony'. It reminded her of herself, though her Tony was an award, not a stuffed horse. Tony was black with a white blaze and Pokey was a sort of blonde color with a white star. Rachel had been inordinately glad that her fathers had thought ahead and not bought _matching_ ponies for their granddaughters. There was enough screaming in the house over who took whose pony without them being identical.

Judging from Liv's relieved expression, Rachel was right in packing Tony. Liv liked to say that she wasn't a baby and she no longer carted him around everywhere she went, but Rachel knew that he liked to hide under Liv's pillow and she'd caught Liv holding onto him in the middle of the night more than once.

"Maybe Tony needs you, Livvy," Quinn said. "He would probably be super lonely at home without you."

Cam stood up and left the frame, Eliza watching her intently and Liv still blinking sleepily at the camera. "Really?"

Quinn nodded very seriously and Rachel hid a smile behind her hand. "Really, really."

Eliza grabbed Pokey from Cam's hand and squashed him to her chest; Liv was gentler when she accepted Tony, patting his head.

"What do you say?" Rachel asked.

"Thank you, Aunt Cam," they said, curling back up together.

"And?" Quinn prompted with a raised eyebrow. She pointed at Rachel and waited for them to get it.

"Thank you for packing Tony and Pokey, Mommy," Eliza said.

Liv nodded, "Thank you, Mommy."

"You're welcome," Rachel said.

"I have to go to work now, babies," Quinn said and blew a kiss to the camera. "I love you. Give Caleb a kiss for me, okay?"

"Love you," they said, blowing kisses back.

"I miss you. Have fun with your cousins - I can't wait to hear about your adventures," Rachel told them, bottom lip once again caught in her teeth.

"Miss you," Liv said.

"Miss you lots, Mommy," Eliza chimed in.

They waved at the screen and then hopped off the couch, free hands clasped together and stuffed best friends under their arms. Cam watched them go, speaking to Sean off camera about getting breakfast going.

"You two going to be alright?" she asked with a knowing expression. "It's hard being away from them."

"We'll be okay; I'll call you later to check in again." Quinn kissed the side of Rachel's head and Cam nodded, disconnecting the call.

"How are you so calm?" Rachel asked, circling her arms fully around Quinn's neck and laying her head on Quinn's shoulder. "Why am I the only one crying?"

Quinn cleared her throat, not nearly as stoic as Rachel had assumed. "I compartmentalize."

Rachel laughed shortly and attempted to push herself even closer, taking in all the comfort she could. "Liar."

"Okay, so I suck at compartmentalizing," Quinn admitted, her voice cracking. "I'm picturing them at the park... Liv and Eliza playing on the monkey bars with you hovering and worrying about them falling and breaking their heads open and Caleb in the baby swing – the way he laughs when you push him and scoots forward when you catch him, wanting to go again. I'm pretending that they're just visiting Cam because you and I had an anniversary coming up and they'll be home tomorrow. Honestly, it's all I can do right now to not be sobbing because it feels like I've ripped out my heart and sent it away." Her throat worked hard, trying to keep tears at bay as she ducked her head down against Rachel's still damp hair and clung to her.

"Quinn," Rachel sniffled, now also picturing the park and games of tag and Caleb 'walking' with Quinn holding on to his hands.

"I know this is awful and painful, but they're _safe_," Quinn choked out and wiped futilely at her eyes. "They're safe and now I have to keep _you_ safe. So I need to focus and I need you to help me. Can you do that?"

Raising her head, Rachel loosened her hold on Quinn's neck and leaned up to kiss her as hard as she dared, ignoring the whispering of their friends in the background. Quinn responded, just as desperate, her palm against Rachel's warm cheek. Rachel held on to the connection until she absolutely had to pull back and even then didn't go far, letting her temple bump Quinn's forehead. "Yes. Yes, I can do that."

Quinn nodded, kissed Rachel's forehead and then completely disentangled herself, standing from the couch and turning watery eyes onto Allison and Ryan, who were pretending they hadn't been eavesdropping.

"Do I smell bacon?"

* * *

"Okay, Rachel, whenever you're ready," Mick said from the other side of the window.

Rachel adjusted her headphones one more time and gave a quick thumbs up, as ready as she could be.

Studio work, for some reason, made her more nervous than singing on stage ever had. It was also frustrating, having to loop certain sections over and over to get it perfect. It didn't happen often, but when it did it made her a bit more than a 'little' crazy. They'd been working for a couple of hours already and she was about ready to make Levi eat the microphone if he told her to 'put more love' into the lyrics one more time.

The opening notes to 'Come What May' filtered through her headphones again and she closed her eyes and allowed herself to get completely lost in the music, flawlessly hitting her cue. As she sang she started to think about the words, and then rather than focusing on chords or stylistic choices she found herself thinking about Quinn.

Quinn's blonde hair and the way it fell all over her face in the morning. That pale skin that refused to hold a tan, no matter how hard Quinn worked at it. Those eyes of hers - they could knock the breath right out of Rachel with the intensity in them. Her lopsided smile and her _real_ laugh. How her nose wrinkled in her sleep and the way she whined if Rachel tried to get out of bed before she was awake.

Memories flickered behind Rachel's closed eyelids - a montage featuring her wife - and all the while Rachel sang. Then an image came, or maybe a memory, perhaps just something she imagined. It was Quinn sitting cross-legged on their bed, typing away at her laptop with that furrow of concentration in her brow. Glasses balanced on her nose, framing those electrifying eyes, her hair in a messy ponytail. She looked up and smiled crookedly, setting the laptop aside as she reached out with one hand, beckoning Rachel forward. Rachel stared at figment Quinn, heard her laughter ringing inside her head, and felt like her heart would burst from her chest. Quinn laughed again, gesturing more adamantly for Rachel to come to her; Rachel wanted to, she wanted to so badly, even if it was just inside her head. She wanted to feel the warmth of that skin and the softness of Quinn's hair. It was so simple and it was _everything_.

Rachel sang her heart out, barely noticing the song drawing to a close in time to cut off her last note correctly. Opening her eyes, she blushed at the look on Mick and Levi's faces as they gaped at her. "Sorry," she said, clearing her throat daintily. "I got caught up in the moment."

"I'll say," Mick replied, gesturing for her to come out of the recording room. "Let's have a listen."

Rachel stepped out of the room and checked her watch before sinking down onto the couch next to her manager, Levi, who was beaming at her.

"You were thinking about Quinn, weren't you?" Levi asked as Mick played the track back for them.

"Well I certainly wasn't singing it to Finn," Rachel answered, giggling at her inside joke and the confused look on his face. "Never mind. Yes, I was thinking of Quinn, if you must know."

"If you could do that every time..." Levi said, nudging her lightly with his elbow. "Not that you aren't always magnificent, but sweet Jesus on toast, lady - I'm pretty sure Mick teared up!"

"Only Mick?" Rachel sighed, flipping her hair over her shoulder. "How disappointing. I'm losing my touch."

"Babe, you're going to steal more hearts than you know what to do with," Mick commented with an eyebrow raise. "That was magic. Can you think about whoever Quinn is every time? I mean..."

"Quinn is my wife," Rachel said, smiling at Mick's surprised expression. "Not something you read about, I know. I assume once I make a move to film or television they might dig into my personal life more, but for now it's not exactly well known. We like to keep our family life private."

"I won't say a word," Mick promised, drawing an 'X' over his heart with his finger. "Maybe I could meet her at some point?"

Rachel nodded, "Probably. She almost came with me this morning."

"Any one special enough to snare you is worth meeting," Mick said and winked.

Ducking her head and feeling a blush creeping across her face, Rachel shot a glance at the clock and turned to Levi. "Can we pick up after lunch? I'd like to go meet Quinn."

Levi waved her off with his hand, "Go. Text me when you're heading back. Mick and I will have something delivered and work over the track."

Overjoyed, Rachel kissed Levi's cheek in thanks and swiftly gathered her purse, already thinking about the deli she would stop at to get Quinn's favorite sandwich.

"Talk that woman into coming back with you," Mick called teasingly after her.

* * *

Ryan's chipper attitude could be grating on a normal day, but on this day it was like fingernails on a chalkboard. Once the lingering drug-aided sleepiness wore off, Quinn was left with a pounding headache and an itching feeling of paranoia that left her muscles painfully tense all day. She was thinking about Rachel, worrying about Rachel, and the longer the day seemed to drag the worse it got.

Rachel had been abducted once before, and now she'd been shot at, and Quinn just could _not _reconcile her fear that it could happen again.

Listening to Ryan was not high on her list of priorities at the moment, and as obvious as she'd been about that fact, he didn't seem to mind or have any plans on stopping anytime soon.

"Q, you kind of... you don't look very good," he blurted, abruptly snatching her from her ruminations. He'd been prattling on about the Ranger game for the past ten minutes and she'd stopped paying attention shortly after the first.

Quinn glared at him from behind her fingers. "You go from lamenting about hockey straight to 'you look like shit'? How the hell does Allison put up with you?" Annoyed, she tossed the nearest projectile at him - her stress ball - which he caught with infuriating ease and started to squeeze. He even winked. "_Why_ do I put up with you?"

"Because I'm so damn cuddly," he teased, mirth twinkling in his blue eyes as he scooted his chair closer to her desk. He rapped his knuckles on the polished wood surface and ducked his head to try and peek at her face. "You want to take your hands off your face and talk to me about what's turned you into 'zombie Quinn'? It's not just lack of sleep, so don't even pull that on me again. I've seen you in here after a sleepless night with the Tadpole, and I know for fact this isn't sex romp exhaustion. So talk to me, Boss - what's going on?"

"Ryan," she ground out warningly and dropped her hands. "For _once_ leave it alone."

His eyes searched hers, and she let him read what he could, hoping he'd see enough to drop the subject. She should have known better; he'd always been so perceptive.

"Quinn, this is about Lookhart, isn't it?"

The reaction came without any conscious direction from her. Her palms slapped down, hard and loud against her desk, as she stood, fury shooting hotly through her. It took every ounce of self control she had to stay behind her desk, to rein it in before she did something she'd regret. She'd never wanted to hurt him more, never felt the urge so strongly, not directed at him. "Never. Say. That name."

"Quinn?"

"_Never_," she raged, shaking as she fought herself. They stared at one another for a few tense seconds until she just couldn't stay upright anymore and slumped back down into her chair.

"You said you saw the shrink," he finally whispered, low and smooth, the way one would speak to a spooked animal.

She couldn't resent him for it, suddenly exhausted again and embarrassed with herself. "I did."

"Maybe you should go back?"

Quinn frowned, scrubbing her hands over her face. "No. There's... there's nothing he can do that I don't already know. It's fine, Ryan. It's just this whole thing with the shooter dredging up memories, and it's a trigger, plus the stress of - I've got to keep Rachel safe and my _children_ had to be sent away. I can deal. I have to."

Ryan stood carefully, approaching her cautiously until he was close enough to slide his hand over her bowed head. "I worry about you, you know. You, Rachel, and the munchkins are my family. There's no shame in asking for help, Qball. In getting help. From me, or Rachel, or the head doctor. From whomever. It doesn't make you weak."

"You forget, I studied the same stuff the 'head doctor' did," she said as she cracked a pathetic smile up at him.

He shot a quick glance at the open office door, then bent and pressed the barest of kisses to her temple. "I know, I know, you're all Brainy Smurf and whatever. Just take care of your head."

* * *

It was hard to keep from skipping like a schoolgirl on her way into Quinn's office, hands full with her cell phone and the bags containing Quinn's sandwich and her vegan friendly one from Blossom Du Jour.

Rachel beamed at the agent who greeted her at the elevator, chirping a bright 'hello' at him and politely requesting Quinn's floor. He smiled tightly back and jammed his finger into the requested button. Rachel noted that no other floors were lit up, so he was heading the same place - which wasn't odd, she supposed.

As the elevator slowly ascended Rachel began to feel, well, cold in a way. Usually she would be making small talk with someone she assumed to be one of Quinn's co-workers. Instead she found herself fidgeting, waiting impatiently and skittishly for the doors to open so she could escape the oppressive tension in the elevator.

Chiding herself internally did nothing to calm her nerves, and she wondered if her phone would get reception, because she really needed to hear Quinn's voice.

She jerked when a strong hand clamped down over hers around her phone, and closed her eyes as dread washed over her. Something hard dug into the base of her spine, and she knew it was a gun. Somehow she'd known - a part of her had known this was coming.

"That's right," a low voice said against her ear, so close she could feel his lips move against her skin. She shuddered in revulsion, gasping when he dug the muzzle of his gun harder into her back. Her eyelids flew back up and she twisted slightly to see his face more clearly, whimpering when she met hard brown eyes. "I will shoot you, if you don't do exactly as I say. Okay, Mrs. Fabray?"

"Quinn is going to kill you," Rachel promised through gritted teeth as he slid the tip of his nose around her ear. She could literally feel him smirking, and rage as well as fear worked its way through her.

"We'll see about that," he threatened, twisting her wrist around to look at her phone. "The kids are cuter in person," he commented as her background popped up. "Call Quinn. Get her to meet you on the roof, alone. I swear to you, if you say anything about me, if you warn her in any way, I will make you watch me hurt your children. Do you understand?"

Rachel nodded, nice and slow, swallowing a whimper at the thought of him getting his hands on her babies. Her stomach twisted painfully as she tightened her hold on her phone. As much as she generally loathed violence, especially knowing exactly what it would cost Quinn to pull the trigger, she'd never really wanted someone dead as much as she did then. She might have joked about wanting to 'kill' people - she'd even thrown a few punches in her life - and she'd once told Mr. Schuester that she wanted Jesse St. James to get eaten by a lion, but never, _never_, had she actually wanted anyone to die. Not until that moment. Not until someone threatened her children. "I understand."

"You're a good mother," he sneered. "Call Quinn."

Remembering her conversation with Quinn just that morning about 'codewords', Rachel prepared herself to use all of her acting prowess to get through the next few moments. She needed him to believe that what she was about to say to Quinn was genuine.

She dialed the number with shaking fingers and pulled the phone up to her ear, noting that while he was watching her closely he didn't seem to mind that she'd chosen to awkwardly lift her phone to her left ear, rather than her right. With a secretive flip of her fingernail she silenced the phone and easily turned down the volume, hoping it would work to further dampen the sound so he couldn't hear what Quinn was saying.

The line rang twice and then clicked as Quinn picked up, her voice dimmed to where Rachel could barely hear it.

"Rachel, I was just about to call you. God, I really need to hear your voice," Quinn said, so tired sounding that Rachel's heart ached for her. For both of them.

"Baby," Rachel said, steadfastly looking straight ahead, watching the warped reflection of her captor in the doors instead of meeting his stare. "I brought you lunch."

"You did? I was going to ask if you wanted me to come down to the studio - I'm not... I need to see you. I feel like the walls of my office are closing in."

Rachel hummed and tilted her head, eyes screwing shut as the first wave of tears blinded her. She managed to keep her voice steady but had to clear her throat to keep it from sounding suddenly husky and obviously clogged with tears. "I'm in the elevator right now bringing it to you. Hey, baby? Did I leave my coat in your office?"

The line went so silent all Rachel could hear was her own heartbeat pounding away, so loudly that she wondered if Quinn could hear it too.

"He has you?"

"Yes, that's the one. Could you bring it with you and meet me on the roof? I'm a little on edge," Rachel said, hoping and praying that Quinn could decipher what she was trying to get across.

"It's going to be alright, everything's going to be fine."

"I know, but I thought it might be nice to have some time alone. The fresh air could help shoot down some of my anxiety." She couldn't outright say 'gun', and the closest word she could think of was 'shoot'.

"Rach, clear your throat if he has a gun," Quinn instructed.

Rachel cleared her throat, "I'm fine, baby, it's just a tickle. Don't let Ryan come with you though, I'm serious about wanting you alone."

"Of course he wants me alone," Quinn growled. "I'll be right there. Just do what he says, sweetheart. I'm going to come get you. I promise everything's going to be fine."

"I love you too," Rachel whispered, holding back sniffles and letting her tears roll free. "See you soon."

She hung up and he snatched her phone, a weird twisted smile on his face as he smashed it on the floor. "That was some performance, Mrs. Fabray. I see why you won that shiny monstrosity in your house."

Turning to deliver a verbal lashing, she didn't see his fist coming until it was too late.

* * *

Quinn grabbed her pistol, knocking her chair over in her haste to leave the office. She shot a text message off to Ryan who'd left to get them coffee, and hurried to the staircase door. There was no time to plan, no chance for her to sit down and try to figure out what she should or shouldn't do. The bastard who had threatened her family had Rachel. He had her and Quinn could barely think past that. It was dangerous going without a plan, rushing headlong and emotionally with no idea what might happen once she got to the roof.

She didn't bother with stealth as she raced up the steps, her footsteps clanging loudly and echoing, pistol clutched tightly in her hands. With every step she was swallowing back down her heart, and knowing that she needed her mind to be clear wasn't helping her to get it that way. All she could really think was 'Rachel,' and she was so tired, so unfocused and afraid and _furious_. It was all too much - just too much. There was no way she could hesitate or slow down, not even for a second. Quinn didn't know who had Rachel; she certainly didn't know why, but Rachel was counting on her, needed her, and that's all she could focus on.

Then she was there, at the door, and she still didn't stop, barreling out pistol first and finally staggering to a halt, panting hard.

It was like hitting a brick wall.

"Agent Fabray," he said smoothly, sending shivers all the way from Quinn's head to her toes. He had a pistol in hand, pointed calmly at Quinn, and a wicked looking hunting knife at Rachel's throat.

He sounded just like his brother.

"You?" Quinn asked, completely shocked. It was like she'd known; somehow she'd _known_. Mark Lookhart, the older brother of Nathan Lookhart, who had tortured her and nearly killed her... He smirked and dug the knife into Rachel's neck a little further, tipping her chin up and forcing a whimper from her. "You son of a _bitch_," Quinn hissed, stepping forward immediately upon hearing that pained noise.

"Not another step, Agent, or I swear to God I'll slice your wife open," he sneered, immediately freezing Quinn in her tracks. "Drop the gun."

"No," Quinn replied firmly, and in spite of him readjusted her aim so it was pointed directly at his head. "I don't think so."

Rachel was crying, her hands wrapped around his wrist, and Quinn could see the black blossom of a bruise forming on her throat. Her eyes were boring into Quinn, wet and terrified and _pleading_.

"You put that gun down or I'm going to spray her blood all over you," he snapped.

"What did you do?" Quinn demanded, staring at the deepening bruise and the blood on Rachel's lips.

"I shut her up," he explained, smugly smiling as he turned his head, eyes still on Quinn, putting his mouth on Rachel's ear and wetly kissing it. "Didn't I, songbird?"

Rachel recoiled from the contact, but he jerked her right back and bit into her earlobe.

"Don't," Quinn hissed, taking another involuntary step forward.

"Stay there," he warned. "You know, Agent Fabray, I have to say you've got good taste in women. Mrs. Fabray is gorgeous. I think those girls of yours are going to be as pretty as their Mommy."

"You sick fuck," Quinn seethed, finger tightening on the trigger she was dying to pull.

"And that little blond boy - he's yours right? It's been interesting, seeing your family. You know I've been watching you, don't you? Of course you do. The great Agent Fabray doesn't miss anything."

"What did you do," Quinn repeated, trying to assure Rachel with just a look.

"To your kids? Nothing. Not yet. You and I have some things to talk about though."

* * *

TBC...


	4. Chapter 4

AN: And here we are at the end! I'm so sorry that it took me so long, I hope you like the conclusion!

* * *

Quinn had never been emotionally stable – not really. She'd become a master at hiding things early in her life because her father would not stand for childish tantrums of any sort. It didn't mean that she didn't feel things, as Finn had once suggested, but part of her believed that the only thing hiding emotions had done was make them more unstable when she did allow herself to feel and express them. It was scary, acknowledging when she was frightened or upset or _angry_. Especially with Rachel – Rachel who wore everything on her sleeve, who had no fear in expressing herself loudly and clearly. Over the course of their relationship Quinn had slowly learned that it was okay, that Rachel would listen and not judge Quinn's feelings. Even if she didn't agree.

In opening herself up Quinn had lost some of her coveted control and now, staring at a man who was threatening her family – her _life_ – all the good things Quinn had to hold onto… she felt like she had no safety, no cover, from her rampaging emotions.

She was more furious than she'd ever been in her life and everything else she'd been trying to keep a lid on was bubbling up and mixing into something truly volatile. Something explosive.

Beyond that, she was absolutely disgusted with herself. Looking at his face Quinn realized that she had seen him – she'd seen him and hadn't made the connection consciously. Her mind had tried to warn her, dredging up those nightmares, the flashbacks. A 'hey, dummy, pay attention' that she'd ignored and now Rachel was in danger again. Because of her.

Staring at him, in his crisp suit and FBI ID, a knife to Rachel's neck and a gun pointed her direction, Quinn wondered how she could have been so stupid to let it come to this. Surely there had been other signs, things that she had missed that could have prevented this confrontation.

Prevented what was about to happen.

She felt like she was on the edge, balanced precariously on some great precipice about to fall. What she didn't know was what was going to happen when she tipped.

Seeing Rachel bruised with blood smeared across her mouth, Quinn knew there was no way she could back down. There would be no placating Mark, just as his brother had been too _evil_ to barter with. They were both completely at his mercy and would be even more helpless if she put the gun down. He may have said he only wanted to talk to her but she knew better; his brother had been cruel, malicious to the core, and Mark had that same look in his eyes.

Quinn would die before she ever left Rachel to that fate.

The only option she could see was stalling. She'd have to find a way to keep him occupied until Ryan could get to them and then pray that she could get to Rachel first.

"How long have you been following me?" Quinn asked, stepping further out onto the roof and away from the door. He backed away, pushing the flat of the blade against Rachel's neck until she made a small noise that stopped Quinn cold.

"Stay there," he ordered, ducking his body further behind Rachel to make any sort of shot near impossible even with her skills. "Long enough and I wasn't just following. I did my homework on you. Nice house, by the way - I especially like the master bedroom. Your mattress is a little soft for my tastes, but man that tub is… wow."

She felt her eyes widen and tried to temper the reaction but he'd clearly seen it. He grinned at her and tugged Rachel more firmly against him.

"That's right. You know you should look into better home security, especially with little ones around. It would have been so easy to take them. Hell, I considered it." He taunted, smirking when Rachel gurgled out a rough growl. "Mommy bear doesn't like that too much, does she? Don't worry, I didn't touch them."

Rachel shuddered visibly and locked eyes with Quinn, her expression softening like she knew just how close Quinn was to snapping. _Careful_, Quinn thought, taking a deep breath through her nose and tamping down her temper. She was trembling, exhausted and near blinded with fury, the adrenaline coursing through her wasn't helping and she _had _to stay rational. Had to think things through or she would be the one to make the critical mistake.

"How long though..." Mark tipped his head as though counting dates in his head. "I can't remember the first date; it was the day before you two had yourselves some fun." He leered over Rachel's shoulder at Quinn, then turned his head and kissed Rachel's bruise. "You shouldn't leave your bedroom window open. I think the whole neighborhood heard Songbird here. Your kids must be deep sleepers - what day was that, Quinn? Do you remember? I was tracking you the day before that; you even saw me. I thought I was busted for sure but you just walked right past."

Quinn's skin was crawling with the sense of violation. He'd been in her home, watched her children, been listening in to her intimate moments with her wife. Rachel was focused on her still, and Quinn swallowed back her anger, digging deep for some false bravado. The same type she'd worn in high school all those years before. There was a good chance that she wasn't going to leave the roof, but she needed to put that aside and find some courage for Rachel.

She could do that.

"So is this what you wanted to talk about, Mark? Looking for some sex tips?" she baited, putting on an air of confidence and feigning boredom with him. If she could rattle him enough there was a slim chance that he'd make a bigger mistake than he already had. It was one thing to threaten her, but he'd crossed the line. She had no idea how he thought he was ever getting off the roof.

"Or maybe it's your crazy brother you want to talk about? You want to talk about how he died?" Seeing his face twist and start to turn red she pushed again. "What exactly do you want? I'm just wondering what could possibly be worth all of this, worth your _life_. Stalking me, my family, threatening my wife... for what? What do you want?"

"You killed my brother, you _bitch_," he spat. "You ruined _my_ family. My mother doesn't speak anymore; she just stares into space, and my father was so embarrassed by what happened that he shot himself. Because he couldn't live with the thought of what you'd done to Nathan."

"What _I_ did to Nathan? Are you serious?" Quinn snorted incredulously and arched her eyebrow. "I think it probably had more to do with the _disgusting_ things your baby brother did to all those helpless people – what he tried to do to me. Those people - his victims - were innocent, decent people and your brother was a monster."

"My brother was a good man! You framed him to get this cushy job and some time in the spotlight, and you killed him to cover your tracks." Mark shouted, hand squeezing so hard at his pistol grip that the weapon shook. "I think maybe you should know what it's like to lose a loved one so unjustly. Maybe I should splatter your wife's brain all over this roof."

Rachel started to cry harder, her nails gouging his arm in an attempt to get him to move the knife from her throat.

"Rachel, it's fine, you're fine," Quinn said thickly, trying to keep Rachel calm, blinking rapidly to force her tears back. The tenuous grip she had was slipping fast, crumbling away. She couldn't afford to have blurry eyes. Her aim had to be perfect – she might only get one shot.

"She's really not," Mark scoffed. "She needs a doctor, Agent Fabray, and she's going to need one sooner if she doesn't stop _fucking_ moving!" When Rachel froze he smiled again, kissing the side of her head with mock affection. "Good girl."

"What's your shitty master plan here?" Quinn said as coolly as possible, barely keeping the tremble of fury out of her tone and doing her best to tap into that condescending, biting tone she'd mastered in her teens. She could see Rachel wondering what she was doing and silently pleaded with Rachel to trust her. It would only take a moment to find the right pressure point and squeeze. He'd get careless with rage, she just knew it. "Just like your brother... does stupidity run in your family? We're on the roof of the _FBI_ building, you idiot. How the hell did you see this working out?"

"Shut up! Shut up and put the gun down or I swear…"

"You 'swear'?" Quinn interrupted, letting loose a fake laugh and rolling her eyes. "I _promise_ you, if you kill my wife I will kill you, just like I killed your twisted, sadistic moron of a brother. No matter what path you choose it's going to end with me putting a bullet in _your_ thick skull. But hey, that's more dignified than being stabbed with a screwdriver by your intended victim, isn't it?"

She had him, and she smiled viciously as a vein popped out on the side of his neck and his eyes bulged.

Just a second more and he wouldn't be able to stop himself - he would have to shut her up.

But then he took a deep breath and her hopes crashed as she watched him calm right before her. "I'm starting to think that you might not care, Quinn. Can I call you Quinn? I feel I've earned that; I know you so well now. I thought you cared about Rachel, but perhaps I was wrong. Maybe I should go ahead and take from you what you care so little about."

Quinn's stomach twisted violently. Her plan had backfired and now there was only terror in waiting to see what was about to happen. She forced clammy hands to hold more steadily to the pistol grip, knowing she would have to act fast if he gave her the opportunity.

Mark's lips curled up in the slimiest sneer of a smile Quinn had ever seen. He dug the knife into Rachel's throat just under her jaw hard enough for blood to well and then started to drag it down.

Rachel made a strangled, rasping noise, eyes screwed shut and mouth wide open but unable to scream. Her hands struggled to pull the sharp blade away, nails digging into his wrist and drawing blood. He didn't seem to be affected at all, merely jerking to shake her off while pressing harder, pushing deeper…

"No! I'm putting it down, stop!" Quinn shouted, unable to breathe, barely keeping herself from throwing up as he carved a red line in Rachel's skin - in her _throat_. He was killing Rachel right in front of her and there was only one thing she could do. "Mark, God, stop! Look I'm putting it down... stop. Stop, _please_ stop."

Quinn's pistol clattered onto the roof as she dropped it, kicking it away far enough that neither of them could get to it. She couldn't hold back the tears. Not now. They burned her eyes and dripped down her face and she let them go, only able to see the blood running down Rachel's neck.

He stopped his cut and she could have passed out she was so grateful. Her knees were shaking and threatening to fold, and the only reason she could stay standing was because Rachel was still moving - still breathing and crying for her to save them.

Rachel dropped his wrist, mangled from her fingernails, and tried to cover the wound, gasping and gulping for air. It was bleeding hard and Quinn knew that throat injuries bled badly, no matter how deep it might have actually been. Mark let Rachel put pressure on the cut, amazingly enough, but he did not remove the threat of the blood-smeared blade. Instead he repositioned it perfectly to sever her carotid. "Keep going, say something else 'smart', Quinn," he goaded, "I'm not playing anymore. I _will_ spray her blood all over you."

"I put the gun down... see? It's – just don't hurt her anymore, please," Quinn begged and held her hands up, watching Rachel struggle to stem the flow. She was so pale already, eyes unfocused and movements sluggish as she grasped her neck.

"I have plans for you, Quinn. Plans that don't include her past this point. You come with me and I'll let her go. I'll leave your family alone. I just want _you_. If you keep jerking me around with your amateurish head games… do you think I don't know where your brats are?"

Something sparked then in Rachel's eyes, a defiance flaring up in them that Quinn hadn't seen in years. She realized then that this was Mark's fatal flaw, because Rachel was never going to let him harm their children. She caught Quinn's stare, and her look hardened further with a resolve that sent a chill through Quinn.

Before Quinn could even attempt to decipher the look being sent her way Rachel planted her feet firmly and tossed her head back, right into Mark's nose. It collided hard with a sickeningly satisfying crunch.

Mark fell away, throwing Rachel down, swearing and reaching for his bleeding and most likely broken nose. Rachel hit the rough roof, wheezing feebly and clutching at her throat with both hands. This was Quinn's window – a window of seconds – not long enough for her to do anything more than react.

She saw Mark pulling up to aim at her and it felt like it was happening in slow motion she could see everything so clearly. Letting herself fall, she reached down and grasped the small revolver strapped to her ankle - the back up weapon she'd never before used - freed it with practiced ease, whipped it around, and fired.

While it felt like slow motion to Quinn, it all happened fast, too fast for her to aim properly and she hadn't managed to fire before he did. Two shots rang out, one right after the other. One bullet hit its target, tearing through flesh and bone, the other went wide and sank into the concrete of the building.

Every time Quinn had pulled the trigger before, the guilt and self-loathing hit her almost immediately, made her feel dirty and no better than the scum she worked so hard to put away. This time she felt nothing but relief; a bittersweet relief at seeing Mark Lookhart crash to the ground with a wail of pain, holding his mangled knee.

She'd promised her little girl that she wouldn't let monsters get her Mommy, and she'd meant it.

Cautiously getting to her feet she crept towards the groaning man who had been stalking her family for weeks, feeling nothing but hate, pure and hot. She looked down at him and toed his pistol away, holding her faithful revolver on him as she checked the damage she'd done to his knee.

"Back up piece, you idiot," Quinn hissed, and hearing Rachel whimpering in pain a few steps away brutally kicked him in his destroyed knee. Everything in her wanted to run to Rachel, had to save Rachel – the urge so strong it physically hurt her to deny it - but she couldn't risk leaving him.

His expression was full of pain now, but the crazy glint to his eyes hadn't dimmed in the slightest. He stared at her with such contempt, it made her want to kick him again or, better yet, put another round between those eyes.

"I'm better than you," Quinn explained to him when she saw him looking at the muzzle of her gun. "I'm _not_ a monster. You deserve it and I may regret this later, but I'm not like you."

He opened his mouth to reply as Ryan suddenly burst onto the scene, belatedly arriving to save the day with what looked like the whole office chasing after him. "Quinn!"

Quinn didn't respond to the call, instead rushing to where Rachel lay.

"Rachel," she cried, dropping her pistol and falling to her knees beside her wife. "Rachel?"

Rachel was on her back, dark hair matted with sweat and blood, soft whimpers passing her lips. Quinn felt useless watching Rachel struggle to breathe. She put her hand on top of Rachel's bloody one and tried to gently add more pressure without damaging her throat further. Besides keeping pressure on the cut, Quinn knew she needed to keep Rachel calm, her throat was swelling and hyperventilating would only make it worse. "You're going to be okay, Rachel. Everything's okay now," she murmured as reassuringly as she could with tears falling rapidly from her eyes. Rachel just stared up at her, mouth working as she sucked in shallow breath after shallow breath. "Someone help me!"

She expected it to be Ryan who would come running at her agonized plea, but instead it was Director Millward who knelt down on the other side of Rachel. He reached down and very gently moved Quinn and Rachel's hands out of the way so he could assess the injury. His face didn't betray anything, but he quickly put their hands back in place and then started to undo his shirt. He calmly replaced their hands with the shirt and addressed Rachel. "Mrs. Fabray, I know you're scared but I need you to trust me right now. Keep that shirt against your neck. I'm going to pick you up, alright?" Rachel didn't respond but Quinn nodded her permission and he easily scooped Rachel into his arms. "Try and take some slow, deep, breaths for me. You're safe now. Quinn is right here and you're going to be fine." She looked so small, so fragile, in his arms, her head pillowed on his broad chest. "Agent Peterson," he called, barely raising his voice as he steadily walked towards the stairway door. It still managed to cut through the chatter like he'd yelled it. "Get that piece of dog shit off my roof."

"Yes, sir," Ryan snapped. He and Quinn stared at each other for a long moment, his blue eyes blazing across the distance. "I've got it, Quinn," he assured her and then balefully turned to the crumpled man at his feet.

Quinn swallowed hard and hurried ahead of Millward to get the door for him, wishing she could do more. He inclined his head to the next door and she rushed forward to open it, hearing him speak behind her.

"Mrs. Fabray… Rachel, think about your babies, okay? Olivia, Elizabeth and Caleb, I bet they miss you – they're going to be so excited to see you," he said, gingerly stepping down the flight of steps and crossing into the office floor. "Breathe," he coached, stopping and waiting for Quinn to get the elevator.

Once inside, Quinn punched the button for the garage with a shaking finger and then turned to Rachel. Hazy brown eyes were watching her, begging for comfort. Quinn stepped closer, not caring that her boss was right there with them, and ran her hands through Rachel's hair soothingly. "It's okay, Rachel," Quinn promised and softly kissed her wife's temple. "It's going to be okay."

* * *

The emergency room was busy as ever, a bustling hive of activity, but between Rachel's blackened and bleeding throat and Millward's steady, commanding presence, they were very quickly rushed back into a private room to keep anyone from noticing it was Rachel Berry.

Quinn had expected her boss to leave once they were safely delivered to the hospital, but he surprised her yet again. He kept hold of one of Rachel's hands and murmured the kindest things she'd ever heard him utter in his low, soothing timbre. He coached her through the examination, promising he'd keep an eye on the doctor at all times, to make sure he took the best care of her throat.

Rachel calmed down immensely, though it was probably mostly from shock, and the flow of blood had slowed to a trickle. The shirt Millward had given her was covered in splotches of dried red and that had scared Quinn more than the sight of the wound itself. Feeling the damp heat against her hand had been horrifying. Having that in her hand - it felt like Rachel's life was literally spilling into her palm and there was nothing she could do except hold onto that shirt and feverishly pray that Rachel would keep breathing.

The doctor doped Rachel up and set to stitching her neck up once the morphine kicked in. Almost completely out of it already, Rachel's eyelids had grown noticeably heavier as the drugs took hold of her. Half-lidded and glazed over her eyes still stayed locked on Quinn's face, the trust there nearly knocking Quinn over.

Millward tapped on Quinn's shoulder as the doctor was finishing up and motioned towards the door. Quinn

reluctantly followed him, hating having to let go of Rachel's hand even for a second. She could feel Rachel trying to watch her and made sure to stay where she could easily be seen.

"She's a trooper, Quinn; she'll be fine," Millward said, watching the doctor work. "I'm actually more worried about you."

"Me?" Quinn questioned immediately, but she knew he'd undoubtedly picked up on her behavior over the last few weeks. He had always been scarily perceptive, even more so than Ryan. It was a trait she both respected and hated about him. There was no getting away with anything with them around.

"Yes, _you_," he said with a fond smile and shake of his head. "When will you learn?"

"I – " Quinn hung her head and sighed. There was no talking her way out of whatever punishment he was about to deliver. She'd dropped the ball and she knew it – she had a feeling desk duty was about to become her life. "I'm fine."

"No, you're not. I know you're worn out. You've been jumpy, abusing caffeine more than usual, and from the look in your eyes… Quinn, I was a soldier, and I know the signs of PTSD," he said and crossed his arms over his chest. "What I'm not going to do is add to your anxiety by ordering you to the FBI therapist. But I _am_ going to insist you see one and I'm going to give you the number for mine."

Quinn jerked, staring at him in disbelief. "You're not going to put me on restricted duty?"

"I should," he said firmly, meeting her gaze unflinchingly. "You're a mess, but I know that it would only make things worse right now and getting you in the right mind is what I'm concerned about. Disaster prone as you are, Quinn, you're one of my best agents. So instead of restricted duty I'm going to say this – and you're going to follow it to the letter and without complaint. You're going to go see Dr. Meyers, or _some_ behavioral health specialist, and you're going on leave starting right now. Go home, take care of your wife, spend time with your kids, and for the love of God get some sleep. Got it?"

She could only nod, and then stiffen when he drew her into a sudden, brief hug. "I don't know what – thank you?" The way he'd been acting with Rachel was surprising enough, but for him to actually initiate a _hug_ told her just how bad the situation was. Or had been. Not that she didn't know that - she knew that better than he did. Still, the contact brought it home once again.

"You're welcome," he pulled away and shook his head again. "I also would like you to email me a full report on everything that happened and I want a verbal account when you return to the office, alright?"

"Yes, sir," she said and accepted the business card he passed her with a small smile of thanks.

* * *

Being back home had never felt so weird to Quinn. It felt as if she'd been gone for years. Standing in her destroyed kitchen didn't help matters much either; it didn't seem like it was her house. The tension in her body still remained, a reminder of just how stressful the past few weeks had been. Even though it was over her anxiety lingered, as if waiting for more gunfire or some other unwelcome surprise. Knowing that the bastard had been stalking them didn't help. They were safe again, but the pressure at the back of her head didn't lessen. She knew it would be weeks before she didn't jump at every sound or fear shadows, if it ever really went away at all. Shaking her head she tried to get back to finding something she could make that Rachel could eat. Rachel, who was sleeping on the couch, still heavily drugged, but was _okay_.

Eyeing some cans of alphabet soup, Quinn wondered if she should be thanking God or luck that Mark hadn't hit Rachel hard enough to do permanent damage. He'd hurt her badly, but she would recover. It could be simply that he hadn't known what he was doing, but that also meant that he could easily have killed her. With just a little more force, that would have been it. That alone made Quinn want to fall on her knees and thank God for Rachel's life - but when she thought about the stitches in Rachel's neck - she had to close her eyes and utter another prayer of thanks. Mark had almost killed Rachel twice and surely it was only by the grace of God that she was _alive_.

Deciding that she just wasn't focused enough to cook - not with her hands still shaking and her heart still craving contact with Rachel - she closed the pantry door and gave up. Snatching up the take out menus from under the giraffe magnet on the fridge, she made a beeline for the couch, barely managing not to run. Knowing that Rachel was okay and _feeling _that she was okay were so very different. She needed to see Rachel, touch her, stay close and know that nobody - nothing - was going to hurt her. Not on her watch.

Rachel was still asleep, knocked out with a powerful painkiller cocktail, curled up under a quilt with gauze taped to her neck, her hair wild and curly from Quinn washing it in the sink. It was the first thing Rachel had written on her notebook when they got into the house - 'Will you wash my hair?'. That was when Quinn knew Rachel really was okay; only her diva would want her hair washed immediately after what they'd been through.

Quinn perched on the end of the couch trying not to wake Rachel, but sitting there and seeing Rachel sprawled out increased her need for contact. She carefully picked up tiny bare feet and set them in her lap, watching Rachel's face to make sure she hadn't disturbed her. It hadn't been her intention to cry - she just wanted to touch Rachel and figure out dinner - but the second she had those feet in her hands the walls came tumbling down and she just could _not _stop. Gasping, one hand against her mouth to try and stifle the sounds, Quinn watched Rachel breathe and _bawled_.

Despite her best attempts to remain quiet, Rachel eventually stirred and opened up glassy eyes, looking down her body at Quinn. She couldn't speak, and Quinn knew that was going to drive her crazy in the coming weeks, but her forehead furrowed as she reached a hand out towards her softly sobbing wife.

"I'm so sorry," Quinn choked out, squeezing those small toes in her hands. "Rachel, I'm s-so sorry."

Rachel whined slightly and flexed her fingers at Quinn who allowed herself to accept the offer, slumping over until she had her head pillowed on Rachel's chest. One strong hand immediately dove into her hair and held her steady against the thump of a heartbeat, while the other started to rub her heaving shoulders.

Quinn cried - she cried and cried until she physically couldn't any longer. Her nose was running, her eyes _hurt_, and she suddenly felt so overwhelmed she wanted to do it all over again. Rachel stilled for a moment and then gently tapped Quinn's head.

When Quinn dragged her head up to look at Rachel, her wife had her hand held up in the 'I love you' sign.

Laughing soggily, Quinn wiped at her eyes and leaned up to kiss Rachel's forehead. "I love you, too."

With a dopey smile Rachel pushed her fingers back into Quinn's hair, scratching her nails lightly. Quinn sank back down, sniffling, and snuggled as close to Rachel as she could get.

Eventually Rachel's fingers stopped moving, resting limply in Quinn's hair and against her back. Quinn didn't move, all too happy to lay there and soak up being in Rachel's arms.

A sharp knock at the door woke her an hour later, and she carefully pried herself from Rachel with a bright smile. She knew who it was, most likely, and it was exactly what she and Rachel needed. Her smile only widened when she looked through the peephole and saw her sister's blonde head.

"Hi!" she greeted enthusiastically as she pulled the door open.

"Mama!"

Olivia and Eliza darted forward as Quinn knelt down, throwing themselves into her arms and hugging her tightly. Quinn closed her eyes and squeezed them back, more than a little relieved to have them back safely in her arms. Lookhart had threatened them, he'd been in their room watching them sleep, and he very easily could have killed them. She could barely keep herself from crying at the thought - they were so little and helpless - if they'd been in the kitchen... but they were safe now, holding onto her like she'd been gone for months. Turning her head she kissed their rosy cheeks and grinned when they leaned in at the same time to repay the affection.

"Mama, we missed you," Liv told her, pulling back and bouncing on the balls of her feet.

"We got to go to a baseball game," Eliza gushed, tugging on Quinn's hands. "Uncle Sean said not to - not to tell Mommy 'cause she likes the Yankees. I missed her and you though."

Amused to hear Eliza talking so fast, Quinn nodded and continued to listen intently as the twins chattered away, voices overlapping, as they tried to tell her _everything _that had happened on their trip. Ever the Mini-Rachels. So thrilled at seeing them she couldn't help herself, touching their dark hair and rubbing their shoulders. When they paused for a breath she grabbed their hands and waited for them to still; she wasn't sure how they were going to take the news about Rachel but she had to tell them. Rachel was fine, but the gauze and bruise on her neck paired with her inability to speak would definitely scare them if she didn't explain first.

"That sounds like a lot of fun, you guys," she said, glancing up at Cam before she spoke again. "We missed you guys so much, but we need to talk about Mommy for a second, okay?"

"Is she okay?" Eliza asked worriedly, holding more firmly to Quinn's thumb.

"Mommy had a... Mommy had an accident. She's okay, but we need to be extra gentle with her. Can you guys do that for me?" Quinn smiled when they both nodded, very solemnly, brown eyes wide.

"Can we see her now?" Liv asked, peeking around Quinn. "I can sing her the feel better song!"

"In a second," Quinn said, and stood back up, wincing as her back protested. Caleb reached for her right away, his little face unexpectedly stoic, like he knew something was up. "Hi, Caleb," she whispered as she took him from Cam, who remained quiet, simply observing for the time being.

Caleb nestled himself close, squirming for a second before settling with his head against her shoulder, fist full of her shirt. He didn't babble, or flail, or even move once he'd gotten comfortable, just held on to her.

"I missed you, too," Quinn told him and kissed his crown of soft baby hair. "Hey, Cam, thank you for watching them. Do you need to head back or would you like to come in for a bit?"

"I'd like to see Rachel and talk to you, if that's okay?" Cam said, smiling at Caleb. "He is so like you."

"I know, poor kid," Quinn joked and ran a hand through Liv's hair. "Come on in. You've got to be quiet though, girls. Mommy's sleeping."

The twins stayed close at first, as requested, both looking around for any sign of Rachel. Eliza wrapped her arms around Quinn's leg and looked up at her questioningly. "Is she in your room?"

Quinn stretched out and closed the front door, leaving Eliza attached. "No, she's on the couch, so we need to keep our voices down, okay?"

Of course the second they knew where their mother was both girls went tiptoeing over, holding hands and exaggeratedly shushing each other as they crept up on Rachel. Quinn let them go, not wanting them to wake Rachel but unwilling to keep them from her. Besides, she knew that as tired as Rachel was she'd want to see Eliza and Olivia. Nothing cheered Rachel up quite like seeing their kids.

"Mama, Mommy has an owie," Liv whispered, pointing at Rachel's throat with a frown.

"I know, Livvy. It's okay," Quinn assured them. "Mommy can't talk right now, but she's going to be better soon, I promise."

Eliza stepped closer to the side of the couch, chewing nervously on her bottom lip. Timidly, she wrapped her fingers around Rachel's and touched her shoulder. Liv crowded up right beside her and glanced up at Quinn. "Will she wake up soon?"

"I don't know, sweetie. The doctor gave her some medicine to make her sleep," Quinn answered, clutching Caleb tighter. He patted her chest and cracked his first smile when she looked at him.

As though she'd sensed them, Rachel's eyes slowly opened again.

"Mommy!" Eliza cried, quieter than her normal volume, but still loudly. Quinn winced but Rachel didn't seem bothered at all. She untangled her hand from Eliza's and wrapped her arm around small shoulders. The twins took that as an invitation and very carefully crawled up onto the couch and curled up with their mother.

Cam nudged Quinn with her hip and lead the way back towards the kitchen. "Is there... permanent damage?" She asked once she was sure the girls wouldn't hear them.

Quinn shook her head. "The doctor said she will be alright if she rests it. It's bruised and swollen pretty bad, but she's going to be fine. Obviously we're going to monitor it closely, and I'm taking her to a specialist tomorrow, but she's... yeah, singing again in no time."

"Thank _God_," Cam sighed, visibly sagging in relief. "What about the cut?"

"It's cosmetic," Quinn answered, shivering and hugging Caleb. "He - he didn't press hard enough to - he was just making a point. It'll scar, but it looks worse than it is." Lingering anger brushed at her and she kissed Caleb's head to take her mind off it. He leaned away and offered her his pacifier, because clearly that's what she needed. "Thanks, Peanut, but you keep it," Quinn told him, pushing it back into his mouth. His eyebrow arched as he studied her, but he laid his head back down without fuss.

"And you?" Cam asked, searching Quinn's face, noting the dark shadows under her eyes and the haunted look in them.

"It was terrifying," Quinn whispered, cradling the back of Caleb's head. "You can't know just how... but I'm going to see a therapist and it's going to be better now. One day at a time, right?"

"Mama!" Liv whined from the other room. "Can we have dinner now?"

"It's family movie night!" Eliza chimed in. "Can we watch it now?"

"Duty calls," Cam teased lightly, dropping a kiss on Caleb's head as he twisted to look towards the sounds of his sisters. "I'll get their stuff out of the van and leave you to it. Call me tomorrow?"

"Sure," Quinn agreed and accepted a one arm hug. "Thank you again, Cam, you're a great sister to have."

"I'll remind you of that next time you're whining about me," Cam said and ruffled Quinn's hair. "I'll be right back."

Quinn watched her go and then glanced back down at Caleb. He took his bink out of his mouth and tossed it on the floor with a serious expression. Quinn sighed, picked it up and set it on the counter. "Right, guess we don't want that anymore. Want to see your Mommy?"

Rachel was sitting up when Quinn stepped back into the living room, sleepily listening to Liv and Eliza who were explaining their adventure at the mall.

"Mama, we're hungry," Liv said with a pout when Quinn sat down next to her.

"You are?" Quinn asked, feigning surprise. She smiled when all of her girls nodded. "How about a special treat? Chinese food?"

"Can I have noodles?" Eliza asked quietly, toying with Rachel's wedding ring distractedly.

"You can have anything you want," Quinn said, tapping Liv on the nose and grinning at the scrunched up expression it earned her. "And yes, we can have family movie night, absolutely. Do you know what you want to watch?"

"Can we watch Nemo, Mama?" Liv suggested, kissing Rachel's cheek and hopping off the couch, heading straight for the bookcase holding their DVDs.

"Sure, Monkey." Quinn watched Liv do her victory dance and leaned over to press her own kiss to Rachel's cheek. It was already like everything was back to normal, the only thing out of place the absence of Rachel's voice.

"Buh," Caleb burbled, practically falling out of Quinn's arms as he reached for Rachel. He hummed and then squealed delightedly when Rachel picked him up.

Rachel started to cry again, softly touching Caleb's face and running her fingers through his hair. Caleb beamed at her, babbling and cooing, clearly elated to see her again. He smacked his lips, grabbed handfuls of her shirt and struggled to stand up and balance on her thighs. Rachel steadied him, more than used to holding him up, eyes wide as he faced her and patted her cheeks. Quinn was worried he might try and pull at the gauze on Rachel's neck, but he didn't even reach for it. He lurched forward, mouth wide open, and delivered a slobbery kiss to Rachel's face. Quinn couldn't help the laughter that bubbled up; Rachel looked completely shocked and Eliza giggled with Quinn before saying 'ewwww'.

"He's so gross," Liv commented, face wrinkled as she returned to the couch.

"Quinn? I'm not a bellhop," Cam cried from the front door, loaded down with luggage.

"Sorry, sorry," Quinn apologized, pushing her tired body off the couch once more to take the suitcases from her sister. "I didn't forget you."

"Yeah you did, but it's okay, I know what it's like when they're gone," Cam said. When all the luggage had been transferred she hugged Quinn again and then stepped over to the couch. "Hey sis, you get better soon," she said to Rachel and dipped down to hug her gently around the shoulders. "You're one tough Mama," she murmured, eyeing the bruise on Rachel's neck. "You guys be good for your Moms," she directed at the twins who both crossed their hearts and nodded.

"Bye, Aunt Cam!" They said in unison.

"It's so weird when they do that," Cam said, touching Quinn's face on her way out the door.

It was silent again, for all of two seconds, before Caleb burst into another bout of gibberish and Liv started cheering about Nemo.

Quinn shook her head and dug into the backpacks, recovering Tony, Pokey, and Caleb's stuffed dog. She sat wearily back on the couch next to Rachel and handed the animals to their respective owners. Liv crawled up into her lap and made herself at home, leaning heavily against her chest. Caleb dropped his toy in favor of Rachel's hands and Eliza cuddled in closer to Rachel's side.

Sucking in a deep breath Quinn bent to nuzzle the top of Liv's head. "So... noodles What else? Mommy's going to get miso soup."

"The orange chicken," Eliza said, curling even closer to Rachel and also trying to avoid Caleb's grasping fingers. He loved their hair - pulling on it, sticking it in his mouth. It was one of his favorite playthings. Especially if they squealed when he tugged on it; he could not get enough of his sisters and their shiny dark hair.

"The orange chicken, okay," Quinn nodded and rescued Caleb's dog from the floor, offering it to him again to take his attention away from Eliza's hair.

"Ma," he said, simply - clearly - and took the dog.

Quinn froze, unsure if she'd heard correctly. Rachel made a choked noise and stared down at him. Even Liv and Eliza stopped talking to each other and turned to observe their brother.

"Caleb," Quinn prompted, eyes welling with tears yet again. She didn't want to get her hopes up but she couldn't help it. "What was that, little man?"

"Mama!" he shouted and shrieked with laughter when Rachel fiercely hugged him in response. He said it again and again, looking right at Quinn and beaming the whole time.

"Yeah, I'm your Mama," Quinn managed to say, her face nearly cracking with how wide her smile was. "Good job!"

"Mama," he stretched out again, falling into her, and touched her face with his stubby fingers. "Mamamamamamamama."

"Why is everyone crying?" Liv asked with a frown, looking from Rachel to Quinn and back.

"We're just happy, Liv," Quinn explained, kissing Rachel's cheek and then Caleb's forehead. "Really happy."

"Can I have chicken now?"

* * *

END


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